The narrow Path between
by KuraiOfAnagura
Summary: But Demyx-" he was waved off. "Not now, Zexion. And close the blinds. The sun's rising." He sighed defeated. "Yes, Master..." Vampire story. Demyx X Zexion. Beware of violence and blood and sexual content.
1. Prolouge

**Prologue**

Even the sick yellow street lights couldn't lift the darkness that hung nowadays over the roofs of the great city London, capitol of the world. But even this from human hearts created darkness grew thicker and more evil on that certain spot on that certain roof in that certain district. The source of that darkness was a creature.

He shifted slightly as a blaze of cool and foul wind hit him, turning his head to avoid the smell of rotten flesh and fish. The night would be worse than that after all, so there was no need to deal with such unimportant annoyances right now. He knew that he was the only one of his kind that lived in the richer parts of the city, yet the only one from the noble kind. The low and dirty creatures who had lost themselves in their greed long ago, deprived of every human aspect, lingered in this poor parts of the town as well. Sniffing for fresh spilled blood and stealing the fresh newborns out of their mother's arms. Cowards and dregs, they all were. He wasn't sure if his noble blood had given him the ability to stay that human or if it has just been his fate, or perhaps it had been his own strength?

But in a night like this he couldn't lose himself in such thoughts.

Out of habit he let his senses wander over the surrounding area. He was alone.

The only vampire tonight.

* * *

**Well, hello to you all. I'm comming up with a new story and it'll be a rather longer one. I have the plot ready in my mind and it just needs to be written down.**

**Before you mock about the cheap language and the possible grammatical mistakes in this story please be aware that I'm no native speaker. I learned English in school as a subject and it's always been one of my worst subjects. Of course I have a beta-reader who makes sure that the story will be at least somewhat readable.**

**Said beta-reader is Scheme, whom I want to dedicate this story. Always beware of vampires my friend!**


	2. In the Dark of the night

Please listen! The girl that appears here is** NO MARY SUE**! I just invented her charakter, because she's necessary for the story. She'll just appear here and she won't fall in love with anybody, she has no hidden powers and she's in no need to be saved! This is, actually, the only chapter she appears in person.

--

**Chapter 1 - In the dark of the Night**

Well, perhaps it was better that way. He never had been very accessible when he woke up at dawn to find one of his fits on his mental doorstep. His ears detected something abnormal out of the crowd of warm, blood filled bodies down to his feet. A group of five persons hurried roughly through the people, making their way with harsh words and also harsh elbows. The party contained out of four males and one female, a young woman, still a girl in his eyes, with strange purple coloured hair. And she was obviously not so eager to keep in contact with the three adult men, who knocked the bystanders away in the first point. The fourth male was a child. A young boy, he couldn't guess his age, with the same shock of purple hair like the girl.

The boy looked up to the roofs, up to where the creature hid himself in the shadows, and his purple eyes bored deep and violent into the dry heart of the old vampire.

That was the trigger for his torture. What lingered so long on the edge of his conciousness now beared its fangs and was about to jump his defenceless self inside his own head.

-

"_Come on, sweety. Just that corner and we'll finally slash that delicious little throat of yours", a rough and evil voice told._

-

It was a curse. His senses never let got of a potential prey. Even more so, if he once had a prey like those. The cacophony of mutilated screams rose in his mind and blocked all other sounds out. But still the pictures of the backwater alley played along in front of his inner eyes.

-

"_So Sissy, you can not pay us our hard earned money back?", the man who hold her by the arms was a giant of a man, with arms as thick as her thin waist._

"_You know-" she began but the slap silenced her immediately._

"_I always thought of myself as a generous man. Lending money to two orphans, because the older sister seemed so mature is not something everyone would do. But my patience is depleted, my dear, I've waited long enough for you to pay back what is mine."_

"_NOO! Get away from my sister, you filthy bastard!" the young boy yelled. The third of the man hold him in an equally iron grip as his sister was caught in, yet he wasn't as big the giant. But it was enough to make the struggling attempts of the child useless._

_The man who had spoken to the girl, obviously the speaker and leader of the small party, turned around and threw his fist deep into the vulnerable stomach of the captured boy. Unable to form coherent words or to even breath he gaped, threw his neck in his back his eyes wide and exposed like saucers._

-

Those purple, purple, beautiful eyes. One voice rose from the crowd of doleful screams that occupied his brain. It was the voice of a woman, high and full of sorrow and pain, who loaded the fate of those two children down there in the alley on him. Some more blood on his hands.

He hadn't known -normally he wouldn't take a woman like her- that she had had children.

-

"_I'll deal later with you, little sunshine, but till that don't interrupt the business talk I have with your older sister" his voice was swee__t __although it contradicted the environment_ _._

_As he turned again to the girl she was trembling with fear, her eyes hold small tears and her breathing was that of a little animal. But her eyes, despite the liquid in them, were hard and adamant._

"_Leave him out of this" she managed to spit out between her clenched teeth._

"_Oh, I don't think this is possible, your debts are so high your own little scrawny body's not nearly enough to pay them. I was thinking... I think I'll sell you to a knocking shop and your little boy here'll make it perfectly in one of those factories, don't you think?"_

_A sob was heard from behind and her eyes widened at the thought of being separated from her brother. "Sister" he sobbed, "I don't want to go away from you." She threw him and assuring look over the man's shoulder._

"_No," she stated firmly._

_The lecherous grin only grew on his dirty shaved face. "You sure? Think about it, your brother's worth seven years of your freedom. So give him to us and you'll only have to deal for 3 years with cultured gentlemen like myself." He said and cupped her left breast in his hairy hand._

_She spat at him and he stumbled back from her as if she had slapped him._

"_Well," he said and wiped the spit from his eyes, "in that case I think your body will be enough!" He swirled around and slashed her throat in one single movement._

The scenery in his head would drive any person mad. There were the screams, the voice of the woman he had killed some years ago, the pictures how he had caught her in a back alley so similar to the one down there. And the pictures from the present incidents. He had curled himself in a tight ball on top of the roof, his claw like hands pressed against his ears, a pathetic attempt to block out the horrible screams.

And now the scent of blood drifted up to him.

_It took some moments for the blood to flow, but soon it wetted her dress and dirtied her long purple hair. The delicate dark blue eyes widened and were glued on her little brother, him being the last thing she saw._

"_NOOOO!! SISTEEEEEEERRR!!" The man that hold the boy had to struggle hard to keep the kicking boy under control. Tears smeared down his little face and the scream was loud and pained. He tried desperately to get to his big sister, who now lay in a puddle of her own blood._

_The boy hadn't noticed how the leader of the men had come near him, but the violent hand around his right wrist and the pain of being pinned to the stone wall by the same knife through his hand that killed his sister was one thing he noticed._

-

Now a second, yet similar scent of blood hovered up to him. His breathing was pained, his shoulders clenched and his head hurt like it would explode. And that what was left from his human heart tortured him.

And suddenly it was as if a thick blanket threw itself over the screams. It ebbed down with every breath he took and was finally gone.

He felt drenched and weak as he rolled onto his back and looked up at the dark sky. It was as he once again noticed the loud screams from under him.

"BE QUIET!" He screamed now too, to beat the helpless calling boy. With an impatient movement he cupped his forehead and threw it back against the unforgivable stone wall. With that silence reigned that part of the town again.

"Bill, what'll we do now?" the giant asked and rounded the corpse of the girl, eager not to touch the still liquid blood on the floor.

Bill took his knife out of the hand of the boy, with the result that the young slipped down to the ground laying there unconscious. "We'll sell her corpse. And take the boy with us to the factory. Carry him!"

As the party reached the entrance of the alley a frightening shadow blocked their way.

"I think I'll take the boy with me. You can deicide on your own if your lives are worth his."

* * *

**inhales phew much violence here. I know, I know. I'm a bad person.**

**I only wrote that comment at the beginning because I know of the habbit of a few people who like to close a fiction as soon as a Mary Sue appears in it. Like earlier mentioned this is the only chapter where Zexion's sister's appearing. I haven't even given her a name, so don't worry **


	3. Revenge is cold, blood is hot

**Chapter 2 - Revenge is cold, blood is hot**

It was as if he floated up from dark and cool water to the lighter and warmer areas of the surface. The dark below him had been calm and soothing, but he knew he didn't belong there so he crawled for the light to break through the surface of his sweet unconsciousness.

He opened his eyes slowly to face the soft and gentle light of the setting sun through heavy yellow curtains. He clung at those precious moments where complete blankness reigned his mind, when he didn't have to deal with the actions of last night. And with a pang it was all back. He rush up to a sitting position, hand desperately clasped at the sides of his head as if he could stop the memories to bloom into his thoughts. His breath went short and fast and his heart raced. The blood that wetted her hair, all the blood. And she was- It took him some minutes to calm himself down to the point where he could explore his environment. He lay in a bed, fully clothed with an equal fully clothed person next to him, fast asleep in the dim half light. With a sudden action of instinct he pulled out the rusty knife he normally kept hidden in his worn down boot. It was more a sharper piece of iron than an actual knife, but nonetheless it sank deep into the shirt covered breast of the sleeping man. And again, and again, and again. As he was sure that the man had stopped breathing he rolled hastily down fro the big bed, his scrawny and trembling feet wouldn't hold his body, so he crawled more than actually walked to the wooden door.

Locked.

A slight panic rose in his guts as he again and again tried to to open the door, jolting the doorknob desperately.

"Geez, all the holes. You know? That shirt's rather expensive."

He froze. His entire body froze like his brain, which was just able to fire that thought '_That can not be real!_'

"Aw and it bled too!"

The young boy spun around, back firmly pressed against the door, eyes wide in shock. There stood the figure of the man he just thought he had killed high against the dim twilight of the yellow curtains.

"You're no human," escaped his breath, as if his thought just left his mind through his lips. The man halted in his doings of examine his ruined shirt and looked up.

"No, I'm not. But I never said so, though. Anyway you never gave me the chance of introducing myself. You were too busy stabbing me. But that place there where you're sitting seems a little uncomfy, so why don't you come up and take a seat here with me at the table?" He flashed the shivering boy a warm and brilliant smile.

"You're like the monster who killed my mother...!" The smile broke down like a mirror hit by a brick.

"I see, for you it has to seem more comfy down there..." he muttered to himself. "To be more accurate, dear boy, I was the monster that killed your mother three years ago. I recognise your eyes." Said eyes grew even more and he started to scream.

The man flinched at the sound and put one finger in his left ear. With a sigh he moved fast to the boy and grabbed him on the shoulders to place him on one of the stools that surrounded the small table. The took the opposite seat.

"There. Will you please stop screaming? It really hurts my ears," he told the boy with a hurt look.

The boy, who had been silenced by the sudden action from the man, stared with wide and hard eyes into the nothingness. In all their beauty they seemed like drops of frozen glass, lifeless and empty.

The man sighed again and massaged his forehead with three fingers. "Well, first of all, my name's Demyx. Demyx Coerdu la Quaorix. And you are?"

"...Zexion."

"Zexion, your mother's been deathly ill, you know? She had been infected with syphilis and there wasn't left even one week fro her. In great pain... but I have to admit that I had not known that she had children..." His tone was soothing and full of earnest remorse.

"What is it exactly that you call yourself?" Came the sudden question. Zexion's eyes were still focused on the table. Demyx was a little startled by the sudden change of character from the boy, but after all he was now behind the shock and had time to observe the situation.

"I claim to call myself a Vampyr, but your English language describes my kind as vampires."

"So you drank my mother's blood and killed her that way to survive on your own?" Well, that boy sure was able to analyse the things, so Demyx just nodded.

"... I knew she was ill. She never told us, but we knew... You stole me my last week with my mother!" He fixed the vampire in a cold glare, which made him flinch. Demyx didn't know how to reply to this. It was true that he had once killed that women in order for his own life to continue. He normally tried to feed on people who's lifetime had come to an end. The body from the purple haired woman had been so full of illness it's been a wonder that she still had been able to stand. Yet he never drank from women with children, he didn't want to load the fate of orphans on his shoulder as well.

"Then make it fast please!" The statement pulled him out of his thinking.

"Er, what?"

"You obviously came for my blood, so make it fast please. I don't think of leaving that world in too much pain."

"What makes you thinking I want to kill you?" He asked in a serious tone.

"You are a vampire, aren't you? You drink blood to survive. And since I don't have anything left in this world, I'd rather like to leave it." His voice had trembled at the memory about his dead mother and sister, but his last statement had been firm and strong. Demyx couldn't help, he burst out in laughing.

The child threw him a look which was a mixture of shock, anger and hatred.

"Aaaaah, sorry kid! It's just that I never expected that reaction of yours!" He had to laugh even harder at this.

"Ok, cards on the table... aw don't give me that look! I'm sorry I laughed, ok?" He cleared his throat. "Ok... it is indeed true that I'm in need of your blood, but I also need a human servant-"

"So you took me yesterday night from those men?" He cut the vampire again in mid sentence.

"Why, uh, yes? Why?"

"I suppose I have to thank you here for that." Again Demyx was just startled by Zexion. Then a dark frown wandered over his features.

"There is no need to thank me. I saved you out of my own purpose, for my own goals. There was no generous or noble meaning behind. I need another human servant and I need your blood. I fear this is the only reason I saved you." Silence reigned the little room. The dim yellow light changed into a darker orange one. Perhaps it had been one of the few clear and bright days in London and he had overslept the whole day?

"Like I said. Make it fast," Zexion again broke the tension.

"I don't want to kill you."

"Then why-"

"I'm in need of something in your blood... and I need it on a more... regular basis..." Zexion fell silent on this.

A vampire. He was mildly surprised that he wasn't shocked at the proclamation of that man... Demyx he called himself. But he'd seen way too much bad things in this world to not to deny the existence of devils and going along with that – vampires as well. Since he could remember there'd been just him, his sister and his mother. And the great bale that surrounded them. First his mother'd been taken away. And now, yesterday night in front of his very eyes, his sister too. If he was a vampire, why hadn't he saved his sister as well? Something in his blood he had said. What was he? A tree from which you can suck sweet juice as long as you feel to?

"So you want to be the tick that sucks on me constantly?" Demyx shifted uncomfortable and scratched the back of his head. But Zexion gave him no time to answer. "If I do as you like, what's in it for me?"

Demyx really didn't knew how to deal with the child. His frame was so childish and fragile, the cheeks still showing the last traces of baby fat, but his will and his mind were those of an adult. Of an rather cold-hearted adult to say. He hadn't expected the boy to react like this. He had prepared himself for screaming, for tears, but not for this.

"How old are you Zexion?" Demyx asked with a gentle voice from which he knew it sounded old and mature in human ears.

Zexion looked up briefly and met the vampires eyes for a second. "I'm no child, if you think that," he was close to hissing his answer, "I'm 15 years old."

Demyx made a humming noise in the back of his throat and looked at a point in the corner of the room while he absently stroke his flawless chin. "But still very young," he commented absently. It was now that he started to listen on his surroundings again. Of course it was stupid for a vampire to neglect his hearing, the amount of hunters was huge these days. He listened closely to the rhythm of the beating heart of Zexion. It raced like a chicken, which was about to run away from a butcher. Somewhat his eyebrows managed to rise any further. There was no visible sign of the tension that ruled the child. He'd seen brave men giving in to him.

"You know what I am, do you?"

"You're the death that took my mother and the silent witness to the murder of my sister. I indeed know who you are. You're a monster who kills human." Again a heavy silent settled itself over the two as Demyx listened to the heartbeat, which had increased even more with the short speech. Really a human. So unpredictable.

"If you agree to serve me I will, of course, pay you. On a weekly basis. You will live in my house along with the other humans that are in my service. I thought about a bi-weekly meeting between you and me. That contract'll stay until your 18th birthday. You may add some other demands if you like." His tone was casual know, so unlike his previous cheery voice. He clearly saw that a heavy river of thoughts crossed Zexion's mind.

"You said this is an offer. A legal contract."

"I will try not to coerce you into something. But I can't promise something, either."

Demyx thought about the sweet salvation from his agony by the sheer smell of the boys blood. Zexion opened his mouth but closed it again, rethinking his sentence again. As he finally started speaking his voice was monotone and even Demyx couldn't see what emotions hid under the surface.

"If I become your servant, you will pay me for my work. Whatever that will be." Know he looked the vampire straight in the eyes. "But my blood has a higher price." Demyx nodded at this. "I have two, no three requests. First you have to teach me how to read and write." The blond haired man quirked one single brow. He never expected the boy, as eloquent and silver-tongued as he was, to be an an alphabet. But after all these times were still dark times.

"I will make sure that you get a good education. In every subject you like to choose."

"Second," he continued as if he hadn't heard the words of the other. But now his voice started to tremble, though his face stayed stoic Demyx could see the great pain behind those purple eyes. "...m-my sister... I want her to be... b-burried properly. I don't know what they've done with her... body... I know of course the stories...-" Demyx cut the boy short with a simple "Okay" to prevent him from hurting himself any more. Zexion took some deep breath to calm himself.

"And your third request?" The vampire asked about some time.

Again Zexion looked him straight in the eyes. Little tears glittered in them and a wet streak was visible on his pale skin. But Demyx felt as if massive stone stared down on him.

"You are a monster. And if I give you my blood I won't be much better. A monster kills people and I order you to kill those men. In exchange for three years of my live."

Demyx stared back, his eyes equal as stone like the boys. They looked at each other for a long time. It was as if they searched each others souls for something, just something.

"_Your requests are accepted_," his silent whisper filled the room. Zexion's eyes widened as the words reached his ears, his soul. It was an eerie voice, an inhuman one. His heart beat faster than ever in his lifetime before. And with brute force it hit him, as he clasped his small hand into those lanky fingers. He just sold his soul. And that monster would eat him alive.

* * *

**I swear Demyx' last name is a pain in the ass! He gave himself the name some decades ago. It is a little riddle. Coerdu la Quaorix is pronounced Cordulacrux and if you take some letters COerDU LA QUAorix you get cordula aqua which means 'water heart' in latin (yes, I know the correct form would be cordulae aquae, but that would've far more complicated than it already is!). **

**I really like this fiction and it's getting longer and longer. At this time I'm working at chapter 9 and I'm still far away from the middle!**

**Because of the asking of a friend who said "How could you not give Zexion's sister a name!" I gave in and thought about a name. I mixed the letters of Ienzo and got Zione. I hope that satisfys you all who thought the same.**


	4. Blood and Pride

**Chapter 3 - Blood and Pride**

Demyx had moved faster than his eyes were able to follow. With a swinging movement he took his coat around his shoulders and waited by the door. Zexion turned slowly his head to look at the figure. Demyx. A vampire. A monster who sucked the blood from human. Killing them to survive. A monster.

He observed the blond, the visible parts, for the first time. He was tall, much taller than himself, but the years of hunger and suffer had made himself a smaller man, thought Zexion. Demyx' hair was blond and brown at the same time, bound back in a small ponytail in his back. The thing that bothered him, even disturbed him most where the vampires face and eyes. His face seemed ageless. He couldn't point if he was 17 or 27. With the mood of the vampire his facial features seemed to change as well, giving him the age he pleases. And his eyes. It drove him nearly crazy to stare for a longer time in them. Like the ocean they changed their colour. From a deep sea-green to the dark blue of the depth. Yet he also saw the inhuman parts. His skin was so pale it could be mistook for white powder in the dim light. His fingers were unnaturally long and ended in diamond like nails.

"Come," his voice drew Zexion's attention back, "we have to find your sister. And to spill some blood."

* * *

The sun had set as they reached the door they sought. Demyx knocked harshly on the wood and some time later it opened, a small old man peaking from behind the split.

"Yes sir?" the old man asked and suddenly he realized why they're standing on his doorstep and he tries to close the door in a hurry, but Demyx foot's blocking it. How has he managed to slip his foot in such a tiny split?

"Dear sir, we're in search of a beautiful young girl. I am sure you can help us with that."

It is always hard to see those we once loved dead. Demyx knew that very well. He'd been at home to see the corpse of first his mother and after some years the one of his father. Then his siblings, one after another. He'd seen the dead body's of so many precious human in his long life. It was cruel to see those we once loved dead. So he made a retreat and left the boy with his lonely screams alone, giving him the time he needed to bid farewell too his sister. The entire way to the... house he'd been quiet, expression stoic and heartbeat calm. But as soon as his purple eyes took sight of her violet hair he- Well, Demyx would never tease him with that breakdown. All the evening the boy had acted so strong. He was also allowed his times of weakness.

After some time he returned into the cold room. "Do you believe in your Christ's god?"

"No longer. But she'd always believed in the angels."

So Demyx went out and bought a grave, a coffin and a tomb on top of it. He, who would never die, was so surprised how expensive dying can be. He forced a priest out of his bed and made him reading the funeral.

"I hope she's with her angels know," said the soaked boy to his left. Wonder , oh wonder it had started to rain during the funeral. This was London after all. But Zexion had refused to leave his sister's grave and hustled the priest to end what he'd begun. "Do you know what's necessary that a human turns into an angel?" Demyx smiled warm down at him, so there was still a frightened child left in the cold shell. He bent down on his knee so he could look him in the eyes.

"_I fear I don't know, Zexion_," he told him in his unearthly voice, "_but I know that the angels never leave us._" Zexion nodded slowly and if it wasn't for the rain Demyx would've sworn the boy cried again his silent tears.

* * *

"Do you know where to search for those men?"

"At the docks," was the only answer he received. It started to disturb him, he being a talkative person, to get just short sentenced answers from the small boy.

"May I ask how you got involved with them?" Zexion shot him a hateful glare while he tried to keep up with the vast steps of the tall vampire.

"After my mother died my sister and I were alone. She managed pretty well to always gain enough money for us to eat and to sleep somewhere. But a year or so I got very ill, the flue, and she had to borrow money from that guy Bill to pay a doctor. He'd planned that from the beginning, I'm sure."

Demyx made again his humming noise in the back of his throat. "Nothing unusual these days, though." He sighed heavy. "I've seen the times change so fast and so much. They claim this century to be a golden one, the years of light in the world. But in the humans hearts there is still the darkness that reigns them. The human nature will never change, I fear." Zexion said nothing in response, yet he mildly wondered how many years Demyx'd seen to speak from the change of times so casually.

"Aren't those the guys?" Demyx' question threw him out of his thoughts. And yes, there stood the three man who's faces would haunt him for a long time in his nightmares.

"Hey, Bill! Isn't that the brat from yesterday?" The giant one, the one that had held his sister, called out, pointing with his massive hand on me. Bill looked up from whatever he was doing and a dirty grin appeared on his features. Zexion glanced to the right and left, but Demyx was nowhere in sight, yet he could somewhat feel the presence of the vampire near him.

"Look, look, what do we have her? Does the dirty little rat-boy not know where to go?" His voice was teasing and the snarl in it made Zexion's hair stand up high.

"I know exactly where I go from here on." He stated sternly what the men somewhat puzzled. "I will walk the path of revenge. You three will die tonight. For killing my sister and making her live so miserable in the last year." The stunned looks were on his small frame for some moments of shocked silence and then slowly Bill started to laugh. Somewhat unsure the other too laughed along with him.

"And how, if you allow me the question, are you going to do that? You called for the police? Or will there even come a shiny knight in an armour to save you and slaughter the villains?" He said it full of sarcasm.

"No," Zexion stated calmly, "but I brought a monster, which will eat you." This was the time when Demyx appeared again out of the shadows, right behind the biggest of the three. The giant spun around, but it was already too late. With a swift movement Demyx buried his hand deep into the man's chest, aiming for his heart. With a panicked cry his knees buckled as the vampire pulled his hand back out, chunks of the human heart between his claws. He moved so fast that the shock still reigned the second man's body. Demyx grabbed him by the throat and pressed hard. The cartilages and sinews scrunched to a bloody mess, depriving every air.

Again he was so fast that Bill had no time to run away, he snatched his arm and with a pathethic cry he crumpled down. Demyx placed a foot on the whimpering figure and looked up to Zexion, who stood some metres away. Zexion's eyes widened at the sight Demyx' eyes. The glowed with an eery sea-green through the darkness. As the look fell on him he felt a cold shiver running down his spine and the assurance that this is indeed a monster which eats men formed into his mind.

"_I want you to look,_" he whispered and the hissing sounds vibrated back and forth in Zexion's heart.

And with one hand the vampire pulled the head of Bill up, exposing the dirty throat and slit it open with one nail. He won't drink the blood from those, even he had his pride.

* * *

**A shorter chapter this time. But I'm really stressed recently. Finals are coming again and though I still have a month left I feel like I will never be able to learn all the stuff!**

**And for all those, who are shocked by the cruelty and violence and blood here: I warned you! This isn't rated M for nothing.**

**At the moment Europe as one is affected by a football fever and hell I love it! I played football when I was younger. And living in a dorm with many foreign students... well no matter who wins I hear at least one person shouting in cheer through the stories xD**


	5. Home

**Chapter 4**

"Master Demyx! We were worried behind nothing! How could you not send us a note that you won't come back yesterday?!" Those were the first words that greeted them as they entered the beautiful three storied house in one of the richer districts of London.

After the actions at the docks, Demyx had halted a coach and they made their way in silence to the place the vampire called 'home'.

Now he threw the woman an apolitical smile. "I'm very sorry, Madam Mireille, but I really didn't have any time to do so. The actions rushed overhead." Madam Mireille seemed pleased with this explanation and smile now at her master. "Very well then, I prepared a bath, but I fear I have to add some more hot water since I didn't know when you would arrive. Albert's been so nice to help me." The portly appearing man who stood a little behind the small woman nodded slightly.

Again Demyx flashed her his sorry smile. "Ah, Madam Mireille, you're so good to me and yet I have to disappoint you again. I fear I have to go out once again. But please would you take care of young Zexion here? I recruited him as the new errand boy, " he shoved Zexion from behind his back in front of the two. The Madam flashed him a motherly warm smile, while Albert just observed him from head to toe.

"Oh, Master Demyx, what beautiful hair he has!" She purred. All in all she reminded Zexion somewhat of a big mother hen who accepted everybody, even Demyx, as one of her chickens under her wings.

"Zexion, these are Artur and Madam Mireille. Artur is the caretaker of this house and I have him in service as my butler. Madam Mireille is the good soul here. She's cooking and cleaning and I fear I can never pay her enough."

"You're very right here, sir." She said with a playful scowling look. She leaned down to Zexion and offered her hand. "Hello Zexion, my name's Madam Mireille. Say would you like to have some sweet semolina pudding after the bath?" Somewhat dumb he took the offered hand, it was very warm.

"Yeah," Demyx clapped in his hands, "like I said, I've gotta go-"

"Not in this coat, Master Demyx!" Mireille cut him short. The mighty vampire sighed in defeat and let himself getting dragged to the closet next to the entrance hall.

"I want you to be gentle with the boy, Mireille. I fear he's not only physically exhausted but also in a very unstable state of mind. He just saw his sister dying yesterday.," he whispered to her, as she helped him in the new coat. Her eyes widened.

"Oh my, the poor child. No wonder he's so calm. But don't worry, Master, I'll take care of him."

After Demyx had left Madam Mireille guided him upstairs into a luxurious bath and asked him to strip down and already sit into the tub while she got some more hot water. As he sat in the mildly warm water he really didn't know what he had expected as he first entered the coach with the vampire. Everything but not this kindly offered warmth. Yet his mind was still in a haze, his eyes felt hot from all the crying, which started now again without his control.

His sobs echoed back from the plain white and blue tiles that covered the walls of the neat bathroom. Zexion had come to an end. All alone in the world and chained to a monster from hell. He had no outlook for the future and nobody to back up him for the present.

She was gone.

"Oh, no, honey, shu shu shu, don't cry," Madam Mireille had entered the room, attracted by the low sobs. She knelt down to the tub and embraced Zexion quickly, muffling his cries in the fabric of her blouse. "Hush, hush, dear. No need to cry know. Nothing will harm you here." She stroke his head and waited patiently until his sobs had come down. Then she filled the hot water into the tub and put some oil into it. The hotness and the scent of the herbs entered his body and he felt debility and relaxation at once enter his mind.

"Here, my little plum, I'll wash your hair. And then we will get you a huge cup of warm milk. I already prepared your bed. You don't have to worry any longer, my dear." Her fingers did magic on his scalp as she massaged the flowery smelling shampoo into his hair. Zexion felt his swollen eyes fallen shut. He dried himself off, feeling like a ghost. The bed Madam Mireille had talked about was a neat and clean one in a small room on the second floor of the house.

She ushered him into the bed, made him drinking half of the milk and stroke gentle over his hair. Madam Mireille took the candle from his night stand and pecked a kiss on his forehead after she pulled the sheets again into a comfortable position.

* * *

Somewhat Zexion felt like he had a mother and his sister back again before the finally dreamless sleep swept over him.

"Wake up my little plum. The morning is nearly over and you've nothing done till now!" The chirpy voice caught him out of his slumber and he moaned slightly at the throbbing headache that entered instantly his head. Obviously a result from the crying. He froze and stood stock still until the smiling face of Madam Mireille appeared in his field of vision.

"Stand up, stand up, dear. Perhaps I will now find something for you for breakfast, but I don't know how it'll be in some minutes!" Now he realized how hungry he indeed was, so he covered a yawn with his hand and followed the small woman down the stairs into the well equipped kitchen.

She loaded tons of semolina pudding, eggs, rolls, sweet jam and milk on the big wooden table where she normally prepared the meals. While Zexion tried his best to behave himself as he raved the food down, she danced around the kitchen, adding some herbs into the soup, cleaning dishes and hummed a happy tune.

"Master Demyx came back early this morning and he gave me the instructions what you're duties are in the next time. Today you help me with the housework. Dusting, scrubbing, taking care of the plants and so on. I've been the only one, who'd cleaned here from time to time, so a helping pair of hands is a positive surprise."

When Artur, he takes care of the money, or Master Demyx have some messages to deliver you'll be in charge, ok? You'll always get enough money for a coach, so you won't have to run around alone. Such a little kid like you-"

"I'm no child," he interrupted her after he'd gulped down a huge mouth of pudding. She stopped in her motion.

"How old are you, dear?"

Her eyes on him made him fidgeting uncomfortable, he wasn't used that the whole attention from somebody lay on him.

"...15 years old, Madam Mireille." She gasped and looked somewhat funny with her big round eyes and equally open round mouth.

"My! 15 years already! My little plum, you have to forgive me, but you look like 10! My, so you're nearly a grown man then. My, my, my..." She started moving again, hushing him into "his" room and waited for him to get dressed. Somewhat some new clothes had found their way into the household, his size and likings. Perhaps the vampire could read minds?

"Sooo," she stated as the two of them were gathered in the great entrance hall. "You see, this is the hall, this door here leads to the saloon," she pointed at a well decorated door to her right. It was a white cream, like the rest of the hall, with golden ornaments painted on it. "And that one leads down to the kitchen and the basement, " said door behind the big stairway, which lead to the second floor, was also white but lacked the ornaments. "The second floor holds your room, mine and the one of Artur. There are also the guest quarters. The third floor is Master Demyx realm. I've already cleaned there while you were still asleep. So all we need to do today are to dust the guest quarters, the saloon, the hall and to scrub the bath." Like a lost puppy he followed Madam Mireille, the rest of the day he just listened to her, never said something on his own. She praised how good she lived with such a noble and kind master. Zexion wondered if she knew what her master was. While they were scrubbing the white tiles on the ground of the bathroom she just told him how much she'd been able to send some money to her younger brother, because of the wealth Master Demyx offered them.

"You do know that your master is a monster?" It slipped between his lips. Mireille froze, turned slowly and smacked him a light slap on the cheek.

"I'm sorry Zexion, but I won't allow that Master Demyx is insulted in his own house. We, Artur and I, do well know the truth about our Master. But believe me he is much better than most humans are these days and Artur and I owe him so much. So if I hear ever such dirty words from your mouth again I will have to wash it out with soap and, being 15 or not, make sure you won't be able to sit for a week. Understood?" Zexion was just able to nod somewhat dumb folded, still cupping his rosy cheek. Until the afternoon they were done with their work. Artur spoke to him for the first time and told him when he'll be able to read and write he has to help him with the paperwork as well.

He didn't know what to do for the rest of the day and the evening, so he hushed back into the room that was given to him and curled under the sheets into a tiny ball.

As Madam Mireille was about to enter the room in search for Zexion, her Master had asked her to take care of the boy after all, she was stopped by the muffled tiny sobs. With a sigh she let her hand fall back to her side. Her poor little plum. How confused he has to be. Demyx hadn't told her how he lost his sister, but even if it's been a calm death she'd been the only one he had left. And now he has to feel so alone in the world. The little 9 years old Mireille in her could feel with him. She had felt his pain, too.

Zexion found soon out that Madam Mireille's universal cure was warm milk with a spoon of honey in it. Whether he got a twisted ankle as he tripped over a pot in the garden or a cut in the finger or a cold during the winter. She always was there to bandage him and to force a cup of milk into his mouth. He once even had the un luck to witness how she forced Master Demyx and Artur to drink said wonder-mixture. She nearly choked them -not that a vampire can choke at all, but still.

So it was no wonder that her first reaction and action was it to prepare a cup of said liquid. She knocked gently at the door and entered after she got no response for some moments.

"Zexion?" She asked with her gentle tone and saw the pile of sheets freezing. "I brought you a cup of milk. Dinner will be at seven. Try to get some rest, I'll fetch you then." As she left the room Zexion relaxed. She was so painful motherly, he nearly couldn't bear it.

* * *

**Madam Mireille and Artur are original characters. But I didn't want to "waste" the KH characters as Dem's servants, if you can understand what I mean. And I really got attached to those two, there's a beautiful story behind their relationship with Demyx. In my mind it's always kinda funny how Demyx, the really old and mighty vampire gets shooed around by a little grey haired old woman XD**

**I have to admit that I havn't wrote anything for the last month. My laptop made a nose dive and deleted two freshly written chapters. So I have to rewrite them but my motivation's not that high about it. I'll have about two month of summer break in some weeks, but I'm going to write an actual novel (soemthing new: in my mother language!) in that time. so just prey I'll find enough time and muse during that time between writing and working .**

**and btw: this chapter's that short because I wanted the following actions happen in one chapter. so the next one'll be more than long ;)**


	6. If you look into the Depth

**Chapter 5 - If you look into the Depth...**

Zexion had spent four days in the great town house till he finally saw the vampire again. Demyx, how he learned, always spent the evenings with his servants (he stood up in the late afternoon, but the last four days he'd to leave the house during the early night, so Zexion couldn't take sight of him), to leave the house around 10. He always came back when the light in the streets of London was still grey. Zexion had also learned, from what Artur told him as he showed him the small office in the first floor, that Demyx earned his money with trade. He had actually invested a huge amount of money in the ships who sailed to the Caribbean islands, where he'd bought a tobacco plantation. He had the luck to hit the right ship in the past and now he always made his round with his business partners at the docks of London or he travelled to the harbour of Dover. How he managed to get to Dover so fast was beyond Zexion's knowledge.

At the day he finally saw him again he got up very early, nature calling (damn Madam Mireille and her warm milk before bed time). As he left the bathroom he was about to step onto the hallway, as he heard the now familiar sound of the front door lock. Demyx entered the house, closing the door silently behind him. He pealed out of his coat and hung it together with his black hat next to the door. He sighed deeply as he leaned exhausted on the door.

Zexion was still in the bathroom and observed the scenery from a crack where he'd left the door open. His heart had started to speed up at the sight of the vampire and now he could feel every hard beat in his throat. He watched Demyx pulling himself up and climbing the stairs. Zexion could swear he just blinked once, but suddenly Demyx was in front of him. Balancing on his bare toes, arms hugging his knees so he was on eye-level with Zexion's kneeling figure. He smiled at him.

"Up this early?" He asked in a cheerful voice. All Zexion could do was nodding abruptly. The boy was scared for his life.

"Ah, I see, Mireille and her warm milk." Again just a nod in answer. Demyx seemed to get a little uncomfortable with the silent to stone frozen Zexion. But of course Zexion didn't notice that in his state of fear and shock. Demyx watched him for some long moments, a calm and unreadable expression in his face.

"I guess it's about time, though." He muttered more to himself. With one last charming smile he got up and made his way to the little staircase that lead to the third floor. "Try to get some sleep again. It's still very early." He turned around with just his head and fixed Zexion in his colour-shifting eyes. "I bid you some good sleep... Zexion." The sound of his name out of the mouth of that mo- vampire made him trembling and cold at once.

* * *

"Zexion...?" Said boy looked up from the floor where he'd absently scrubbed the kitchen floor beneath the counter.

"Yes?" He quirked an eyebrow at her careful tone.

"Master Demyx asked you to join him after dinner in his rooms... he said you would know what it's about..." His brain seemed to come to a halt but he felt himself nodding in response.

Tonight.

Tonight the vampire would suck his blood. He would not drink him dry. He would let him live. But like an evil parasite he would hung on his skin and suck the red liquid out of his veins.

He was in a sort of shocked haze during the rest of the day. He barely touched his food during dinner and nearly jumped out of his chair as Madam Mireille gently took his shoulder.

This was the first time he climbed those stairs. The great staircase which lead from the entrance hall to the the second floor was a big and vast and richly decorated thing. With creamy white painted balustrade and a fluffy red carpet flowing its way upwards. But the one which lead to Demyx' chambers was without the decoration and the red carpet but equally coloured white. It was just a tiny one at the end of the hallway, yet every step felt like cutting something into his soul.

Zexion could here faint music as Madam Mireille leaned over his shoulder to knock once. Without waiting for a response she opened the door and shoved him inside. She flashed him a last reassuring smile and then she closed the door behind him. The sound had something final in it.

The first floor and the second one, spare for his room, were on an average level luxurious. The décor and the furniture sure told that the owner of the town house had to be a rich man, but a down-to-earth one as well. Everything was neat and elegant, yet useful and without any unnecessary attire.

But this room here was different. Not that extravagant luxes reigned the room, but in the first floor everything had its use. Here were many things gathered that just seemed to entertain or to look pretty. Heavy and fluffy looking carpets, in various shapes and patterns, were enrolled over the light wooden floor. An overly large fireplace dominated one wall, with comfy looking armchairs gathered around it. A huge painted picture hung over the small entrance. And various instruments were gathered on the walls. He could make out violins and violas, a harp and an assortment of flutes. Something caught his attention. A strange shaped instrument with chords like a violin, but much bigger. It was a light blue and had a special place, framed by the other instruments near the fireplace.

And so many huge glassy and porcelain vases with flowers in them. On nearly every flat surface stood such a water container.

In front of the large window was a black and shiny wing. The music he now heard again came from said instrument, the beautiful melody floating out of the pale and slender fingers of the vampire.

Suddenly it stopped and Demyx looked up from his crunched position. A smile crawled over his features as he spotted Zexion under the door frame. He closed the cab and hurried across the room.

"Zexion! I'm glad you're here!" He gestured him to one of the beautiful chairs that surrounded a rosewood table in an edge of the room. Zexion kept his stoic expression he'd sworn to himself to take on while he was with the vampire, but now some doubt rose in his heart. The smile was warm and welcoming and Zexion could tell it came from heart. But that wasn't possible. That was a vampire, a killer, he couldn't smile warm.

"Sit down. I hope I heated the room up enough?" Zexion nodded, gaze firmly fixed on the porcelain plate in front of him. The table was reigned by a mad tea party. Sweet backings and different types of porcelain were sprawled over the white blanket.

"Do you want to have some hot chocolate?" The soft question pulled him out of his thinking.

"What?"

Demyx smiled again. "I asked if you would like some hot chocolate?" The smell from the offered cup was breathtaking, but from all he knew it could've been spiked with something. He hesitated some seconds.

"Ok, if you don't like it I'll drink it, " Demyx stated with some anticipation in his voice and reached for the cup.

"I'll drink it" Zexion said fast and snatched the cup away. He'd never drank something that luxurious as this hot chocolate. His mother once had promised him one for his 16th birthday, though.

"Ah, I see," Demyx smile was now knowing. Actually it was rather uncommon if something different than a smile adorned Demyx' facial features.

"Why would you like to drink it anyway... you don't need to...?" With a sigh Demyx leaned back in his chair.

"Ah, I guess I owe you some answers. No, normal food holds no nourishment for me, but I love the taste! Especially sweet things are just delicious!" If Zexion hadn't reminded himself he'd thought that a young boy spoke those words.

Zexion was about to take a sip, but stopped the thin porcelain centimetres from his lips. He soon looked at the vampire again, who had cupped one of his cheeks in his hand, while the elbow rested on the table.

"Your heart sounds like a little bird in a cage." Zexion was very proud to keep his mask on at that statement, though he nearly wetted his pants.

"How can I know you haven't spiked the chocolate?" He wanted his voice to sound demanding, but his fear and his racing heart was no help.

"I can take the first sip, if you like?" Demyx offered.

"Can poison even kill you?"

Again Demyx leaned back to think. "Hmh, there are poisons that can kill vampires. But they're of magical nature and even I just know the names of a few and not the ingredients. The mixtures which are lethal for you humans have no till less effect on me, though. You're really... alert."

"Then are the stories true how to kill a vampire?" He blurted out, not really aware he spoke that aloud, yet Demyx seemed amused to it.

"You already tried to kill me once. But let me say you Zexion," something in Zexion shivered, "that there are many different vampires and very different ways to kill them."

Zexion looked down on his cup. Finally he took a sip, reassured by the fact the vampire liked him alive. The taste was heavenly.

"So any more questions?"

"... how old are you?"

"Hmh, aaah, I have to admit that I lost track over the years. My brother, though, keeps the dates in mind. I'll ask him when I see him next time. But it's been sure more than a century or so..."

"No, I wanted to ask how old you are. I can't tell. You seem to age while I look at you and you seem to getting younger as well at the same time." Zexion was now a little more confident with the talkative vampire. Who grinned now from ear to ear, bearing his white teeth.

"I've been 18 when I got turned. The reason you can't tell is because of your own human nature. Your mind tells you what you have to see to prevent you from going mad. If my features don't fit to the words your mind tries to compensate it. But I never talked to a human who can actually see how it changes. You're quite something..." Demyx started to brood over some thoughts. Out of fear from the coming Zexion came up with the next question in his mind.

"What about Artur and Madam Mireille. They know what you are, yet they're here and serve you and... _love_ you... I can't understand it..." Demyx threw him an analysing look. Zexion felt suddenly uncomfortable as if he had asked something very private.

"It's not my place to tell you their story. If you like to hear it you have to ask them themselves. They will tell you, if they like. But I can tell you that their love is not unanswered."

As Zexion took the final sip from his chocolate Demyx straightened himself in his seat.

"Well... should we begin?"

Zexion's heart rate increased again to the 'little bird in a cage' speed. He looked at Demyx who looked him back in the eyes.

"I want to put you under hypnosis. It's a special ability that only I own among my kind, " he started to explain seriously and slow to Zexion. His voice was calm and dark and demanding. "The hypnosis will last as long as I like. I want to do it to protect you from unnecessary pain."

"...pain?"

"Yes, pain. The bite of a vampire is... very painful... very. And the hypnosis can protect you from it. But if you don't like I won't force you. It is an offer, after all." Zexion nodded.

"Then let us do what you want to do, vampire."

"Right," Demyx got up and pulled his chair in the middle of the room and took the strange shaped blue instrument from the wall. "That's my sitar, please take the seat." It was as if an invisible force glued Zexion to his chair. Was it his will to survive or really a magical power that tried to protect him? He didn't know yet he made his way to the offered seat, his feat stiff and hands sweaty.

"You're trembling," Demyx sounded anxious.

"A vampire's going to suck my blood, of course I'm in fear", he heard through gritted teeth. The vampire still didn't know what to exactly think about Zexion. He could clearly hear the fluttering heart, which pumped the hot liquid through his veins, he could smell the fear that clouded the boy like thick grime. But in his eyes was just that wild fire that burned its way directly into Demyx' dead heart. It was as if the body of the boy knew what was in front of him, but his mind refused to bow before the danger, before the vampire.

Really, a magnificent boy. He'd searched very long for somebody like that.

"You know every vampire is gifted with the grace of a special power. I own the might over an element. Water." As a proof of his words the water out of the vases floated through the air and gathered itself in a huge ball which hovered in the air. "I can command the water to take any shape I like. I've been very musical, even when I was still a human. And during my travels I found this instrument. It appears that its heavenly sounds give me the maximum control over my element." Demyx took place behind Zexion, who still sat very stern in the chair. Who could blame him? Demyx would for sure not.

Now the bubble separated in three equal sized bubbles, one floating behind Demyx and taking the shape of a clone. It placed the sitar in its lap and started, under Demyx control, to play a luring tune. The other two bubbles, which had remained in front of the chair, took the shape of a man and a women and they started to dance.

He bent down until his lips brushed against the sensitive skin of Zexion's ear. "I want you to watch them dance," he whispered. The dance from the two water figures was beautiful. Every movement was a proof of elegance and balance. It was luring to watch, even... hypnotizing. Demyx could see the muscles in the small shoulders relaxing, the heart rate calmed and the breathing eased. His music had always had an calming effect. But little Zexion was just caught in a trance. Abrupt movements, loud noises or pain could drag him out of it immediately. This was not the hypnosis yet, every common vampire could lure his prey into trance, but he could control the mind.

It's been very long that he used that ability of his. It takes time to prepare a human enough to get him properly hypnotized, though he never forgot how to do it. He wasn't allowed to forget at all.

Very slowly he touched Zexion at his elbows and traced up over his shoulders until the tips of his fingers rested on the boys temples on each side of his head. As soon as he'd touched Zexion the trance started to wear off, the heart yet started to race again.

_Tha-thump, Tha-thump, Tha-thump, Tha-thump._

So he waited. Patiently. He'd waited so long for such an opportunity, eagerness during the final minutes won't destroy it. With a silent order on his clone the music started to increase its intensity and the tiny body relaxed again.

_Tha-thump-- Tha-thump-- Tha-thump._

A steady rhythm, as if he was at ease with himself and the rest of the world. Demyx closed his eyes and could suddenly see it. The strings of free will that hold together the beautiful shape of the little boys soul. The soul itself shone in tempting dark violet and the greedy side in Demyx was about to consume it, but he forced his attention back on the strings. Perhaps it was his own imagination that made him seeing the free will as strings. His grandfather had always told him that humans had their own strings in hand.

With a swift movement he cut the strings and adjusted them on his own fingers.

In the very moment he cut them the body of the small boy went slack like a doll with cutted strings. His head, which were just seconds ago glued at the two dancers, fell on his chest, the arms, which were folded in his lap now dangled useless on his side. Demyx had to shove him back against the chair to prevent him from falling limp to the ground. The vampire listened carefully.

_Tha-thump--Tha-thump--Tha-_

The sound of a sleeping heart.

Demyx rounded Zexion careful, eager not to make to fast movements. In this state the boy's mind was immensely fragile.

"Zexion?" He asked. No response. He tried again.

"Zexion, can you hear me?" He took a deep look into his eyes. The lids had covered the half of them, but he could see that all the purple had clouded them so no black was visible. Good, now only his voice existed in Zexion's world.

"Yes." Came finally the answer. It sounded as if he spoke in his sleep.

"Zexion, rise your arm." Demyx ordered. The boy did as he was asked.

"Now take it down again." Again Zexion obeyed. Perfect. The hypnosis was a success.

"Listen carefully on what I say now, Zexion. Listen carefully on my voice and my voice only."

"Yes."

"I put you under hypnosis. Your free will is from now on bound to my likings. When you are in this state you will exactly do as I order you. Understood?"

"Yes."

"When I tell you to wake up, you will regain your free will, but the sign for you to go back is my demand. Whenever I command you, you will obey me and give me the control over your will."

"Yes."

"When I order you to fall asleep, you will do so, as long as your body needs it. When you are in this state you won't be able to feel any physical pain, neither will you be able to speak or act on your own as long as you're not ordered by me and me only."

"Yes."

Demyx stopped at this. He'd said everything that was necessary. Now an evil smirk appeared on his lips. When he and Zexion should come along with each other he had to do anything against the rudeness of the boy. He couldn't earn his loyalty like the one of Artur or Mireille.

"Zexion, whenever you're spoken to and whenever you address me you're only allowed to address me as 'Master'. Understood?"

"Yes."

Demyx smirk widened. "Yes... what?"

"Yes... Master." Demyx took a deep breath. It was done. He'd made this little innocent human his own. He lowered his control over the strings a little so not every word he said now would be taken as an eternal demand. A silent sigh escaped the slightly parted rosy lips of Zexion, but not silent enough for Demyx to be overheard. The vampire bent down and picked the figure up in his arms, the boy was _so_ light, and made his way into the huge bedroom behind the salon. Carefully he set Zexion down and the scrawny body tried to vanish in the soft covers.

As soon as Demyx realized that this was actually the time when it was all about to end, his hands started trembling. The watery dancers had disappeared back into the vases, but the third one was like third arm, so it was actually himself who played now on his sitar.

So now it would end? All the years of pain and torture? Just like that? Just if he lived from the blood of a child? Zexion had been right. He was just a mere parasite, nothing more like an evil insect which deserved to be crushed for good. He couldn't bear it and left his bedroom in a hurry. With deep breaths he calmed himself. How much he wished his brother would be here, he so needed his advice! But as soon as his mind was at ease again the low whispers started in the back of his head again.

'_Not now_,' he thought. It's been nearly just 5 days since they'd last rose their evil voices. So it was becoming worse, just like he'd feared.

_You killed us._

_Monster!_

_Go away from meee! Goooo!_

_I left them behind_

_You stole my life_

_MONSTER!_

"Away!" He screamed and pressed his hands against his temples. For a second he threw them back where they came from. Now was not the time for questions of conscience, now was the time when he freed himself finally from his own curse.

He stormed back into the bedroom only to stop himself in front of the bed. The body was still slack and still caught in the hypnosis, the beautiful purple eyes faced just the white ceiling. Slowly Demyx crawled over the sheets until he lay down next to Zexion. Really a handsome child, even for his age. And that little cherub would bring him his promised peace? He took the thin wrist in his hand, _the voices came back_, he took it to his mouth, t_hey grew stronger and dig with their words into his very soul_, and bit down hard. The fangs had grew and now broke the skin with ease. The voices were now a wave of hatred, so huge it would consume him if it trembled over him, devour him from the inside, crush-

they were gone.

As soon as the first gulp of sweet blood had made its way down the vampires throat the wave'd disappeared. Demyx was so startled he stopped dead in his doings. He searched his complex mind and found them, silent and sleeping, back back where they belonged. A bad conscience which always reminded him never to give in to his monster within. Nothing more and nothing less. He took another gulp, sucked hard this time and now all he could hear from the mass of fragments from dead souls was a calm breathing sound. That was all that was left, just that proof of existence.

It was as if a weight he hadn't known he'd carried for so long, had fallen from his shoulders. He felt in peace, he felt light, he felt ... Free!

And suddenly he was so very tired. All the years of suffering finally asked for their tribute.

"Zexion?" He placed a hand over the eyes of the boy and closed them gently. "Go to sleep, Zexion." Demyx didn't even realized how the breathing of the boy changed into a steady sleeping rhythm, long before he was fast asleep.

* * *

**a nice greeting to all of you who readthis little Story. Also hello to you "Ghostreaders"! (Haha, funny, I learned this word from a friend who also writes fanfictions. Ghostreaders are people who put your story under alert but don't leave a comment. Haha, I really like that word. It makes me mysterious!)**

**Kaoru-Kina made me a wonderful charactersheet! **_ kaoru-kina. / ar t/ The-narrow-path-between-91587354_** (you know the game: remove the space and copy it into your browser. viòla!)**

**Hehe, and now let's talk about this chapter. I hope I could bring you the right atmosphere. My beta-reader says yes, it does, but we're such good friends now... sigh ;)**


	7. Dawn on the Horizon

**Chapter 7 - Down on the horizon**

Living in courts and dark alleys for the last recognisable parts of his life had made his sleep sensitive for light. As soon as the sun had come out he and his sister were visible, which means to get up with the giant fire ball on the sky. So even now the first rays of clear sunlight, it should be one of the brighter days in London, started to tickle in his nose as soon as they reached him. Zexion drifted up from a heavy and deep sleep. Slowly he opened his eyes and again claimed on the few precious moments of a blurry world where nothing existed. It was a little difficult to sit up straight in the deep and soft blankets.

"Ouch-..." He whimpered and pulled his hand fast to his body. An examination of his right wrist exposed a huge dark blue and violet bruise with two deep fleshy wounds over the injured vein. It looked really bad and as soon as he realized that it started to throb painfully. His face turned into a painful mask and he took a look around.

Demyx lay down next to him with a peaceful look on his features. He'd snuggled himself into the deep cushions and was obviously dead to the world. Or just dead in general like Zexion thought. _He doesn't breath._ The faint light of the beginning day that had woken him up was blocked by the heavy woollen curtains of the vast and luxurious bedroom. If the curtains wouldn't be in place the morning light would exactly shine on the bed... was it true that vampires turned into ash as soon as they got hit by sunlight?

Zexion hesitated. If he could pull the curtains back fast enough he would burn the vampire to ash. He would be free and out of his contract with no enemies behind him and a vast new future. Sure he felt sorry for Mireille and Artur, but he barely knew those people. And besides they were old and with the things left in the house richer than they could ever spend all the money in their remaining life. He would never ever have to share his blood with that monster.

Zexion just barely remembered last night. Until the point where he watched the two watery figures dancing everything was all right. But from that point on it was just a huge blur of pictures. As if he remembered a story he'd listened to a long time ago. He had been there, but just as a out stander, a observing third party which took no active role in the actions.

As silently as he could manage he crawled out of the bed and tip toed to the huge window, which reached up until under the roof. With beating heart he grabbed one of the curtains and drew one last look back at the sleeping figure. A tiny little '_sorry_' crossed his mind, yet he didn't know if he apologized on Mireille and Artur or on Demyx.

He shut his eyes and pulled.

Like the scared kid he was he just opened one eye and glanced suspiciously at the bed. It was empty. With and exasperated sigh he exhaled, the breath he'd hold, and turned.

Suddenly he inhaled all the air sharply again which made a funny whistling sound in the utter silence of the room. Demyx stood behind him and now Zexion faced the stone like figure which looked down on him like the grim judge at world's end. Zexion's heart pounded so hart and fast he could feel it in the back of his eyes. The vampires features were unreadable, his look and eyes cold and Zexion suddenly felt very very small.

"This is the second time you tried to kill me." Demyx finally broke the tensed silence. Zexion couldn't help his lips started trembling with fear. "I won't blame you for it. You are a human and you acted to save your life." Again a heavy silence settled over the two. Zexion felt unable to move under the adamant gaze of the vampire.

"As you see sunlight can not kill me," he spoke low and in a whisper, though very clear to make sure Zexion got every word he said. "You remember how I told you about the different kinds of vampires? My kind can't be killed by the sun unless I'm not under the influence of a poison or a magical spell. Or if I'm not in need of blood." The sunlight crept further over the move less figures of vampire and child. Zexion barely registered how awfully pale Demyx looked in the daylight. His features were firm for once and his eyes glowed somewhat in their holes. "The reason I prefer the night is that it is for once very exhausting for me to wander around under the sun. And for the second reason it is that my eyes are very sensitive. That sensitive that bright sunlight would call big pain forth, which I'm not eager to meet." With a rapid gesture, way to fast for Zexion's eyes to follow, he pulled the second curtain away and the two were now bathed in the young light of the early morning.

"Give me your wrist," Demyx sighed as he said this and finally released the boy out of his glare, Zexion's breathing was now abrupt and fast, but nonetheless the rose his right arm until Demyx took it into his cool hand. "I'm very sorry about this," he whispered, again not taking his eyes from Zexion's purple ones. "I should've dealt with that yesterday night, but I fear I was too distracted. My apologizes." He covered the wound with his left hand and a strange prickling feeling crawled over Zexion's skin. As soon as the hand was taken away only a light blue little bruise told from the previous injury.

"Now go down into the kitchen. Madam Mireille had surely prepared a breakfast for you already."

* * *

"My, my little plum! You know if you won't eat your eggs and rolls like I told you you have to suffer until dinner. And that will be in 10 hours, so you better hurry or your egg'll become cold. And there's nearly nothing worse as a cold breakfast egg." Against this logic born from generations of caring mother's and sisters was no cure found, so Zexion took his spoon and started to peel the shell from his egg.

"Zexion?" as the purple haired boy looked up he saw Artur standing next to the table, slightly leaning down to him. "After you're done with your work considering helping Madam Mireille in the household I want you to get properly dressed and washed." Artur spoke rarely and when he spoke he spoke in a cultivated tone and a low voice. Although his voice seemed to be low it was very powerful in his ears and full of hidden strength. From the first day Zexion'd heard that voice he was in fear of the moment when it would be actually rose it against him in a scream.

"Why, Mister Artur?"

"Your house teacher has an announcement for today's evening. The first basic lessons in reading and writing. Because we don't have a better room you'll be taught in the saloon." He waited politely until Zexion showed his understanding in a curt nod and then turned away to whatever his duties were in the morning.

As he entered the vast salon he was greeted by a stern face, whose deep crinkles showed the age of the man. The remaining whit hair on the head was as exactly accurate as the big beard.

"You have to be Zexion. I'm Mr. Brown. Sit down and we can begin." The way he spoke to him, as if he was an low insect, and the bad feeling in his gut told him that he wouldn't enjoy learning to read like he'd thought he would.

* * *

Demyx always slept very lightly during the daytime. Of course depending on his nightly actions, but after the incident during the sunrise some part of his subconsciousness kept the sounds of the house in check. And as soon as he heard the swirling sound of a fast moved wooden object, followed by a faint whimper from down the salon something in him triggered and he rushed, despite the painful brightness of the whole house, down the stairs and into the salon.

"What is going on here?" He demanded with furious voice, the neatly decorated wings of the door swinging opened on its own. In the salon itself he found Zexion sitting on a chair at the great dinner table, while a man stiffly stood next to him. He could tell from Zexion's forbearing features that something really big must be bothering him.

"Master Coerdu la Quaorix I assume?" The older man asked with an oily voice. Demyx knew how to handle those types. He folded his arms and stood on the other side of Zexion, utterly unimpressed by the fact that he was merely dressed in more than a half open white shirt and a light black pair of pants. Not to speak from the mass of his hair.

"I won't repeat myself, Mr. Brown." Mr. Brown sighed dramatically at that with the attitude of a man who talked to someone he thought of understanding his problems.

"I fear your servant is not as willing to learn as I thought, my lord." Demyx just rose a single eyebrow and glanced down at Zexion. The boy wore a stubborn expression as if he wanted himself to prevent from crying.

"He refuses to write with the right hand, my lord. Even after I lectured him that the devil sits in the left hand he still had tried to switch the pen when I looked away curtly." Mr. Brown told it as if he knew which punishment would come down on Zexion now.

"Zexion, why won't you right with the right hand?" Demyx asked.

"Because it's still hurt, Master Demyx," Zexion mumbled, still staring at the edge of the table.

"Show me your hand," Demyx demanded. Zexion rose his right hand, the inner side up. There was still the bandage that covered the wound from the knife Bill had torn through his hand. Not even Demyx could've healed it completely. There was even a dark spot under the white linen.

"And know show me your other hand Zexion." Zexion slowly rose the left hand while retreating the right one. "Show me the inside of the hand, Zexion." Across the rosy flesh of the hand was a bright red stripe visible.

"Mr. Brown, you have 30 seconds to leave my house and never come back again."

"My lord?"

"I think I already said I don't like to repeat myself, Mr. Brown. 25 seconds," Demyx answered him while he still stared at Zexion's hand. Mr. Brown tightened himself, gathered his belongings in a little hurry and was out of the door. Zexion wondered if his instinct of preservation hat told Mr. Brown to leave that fast.

As soon as the front door got shot Demyx relaxed and sighed heavy, he knelt down to Zexion who still refused to stare at something different than the table. A little tear floated down his flushed cheek.

"Zexion?" Demyx asked carefully but he got no response so he tried another tactic. "It's not a bad thing to be left-handed. My brother's too. He got always his left hand bound on his back in school but today he paints with both hands." Zexion nodded absently but Demyx knew he didn't really pay attention to him.

"I thought finally learning to read would be fun," Demyx heard the boy finally whispering.

"Aw, come here," he pulled Zexion to his breast and ruffled the violet shining hair lightly. "One stupid teacher shouldn't scare you for the rest of your lifetime. I promise you, you'll once love books more than anything else. Next time I'll make sure to hire a better teacher. I'm really sorry he scared you that hard. Ok?" He felt the tiny head nodding against his breast. "But why haven't you fought back against him? You're much stronger than that crammer, I know that."

It took some seconds for Zexion finally to answer and Demyx saw just the tiny little scared child behind those words. "I feared you'd get mad at me. For not working hard enough."

Demyx had to gulp hard at this and another long sigh escaped his lungs. "Oh, Zexion! How could I be mad at you for defending yourself? I'm not even mad at you for this morning. You did what every human would do and that shows me that I took some person with character under my service. Come on, let's go and find Mireille. She should have some ice and a balm for your hand." with that he stood up and took Zexion's hand and they made their way out of the salon.

"She should be in the garden, I think," Demyx said and hummed softly. Zexion had caught himself so far, god knows he'd worse incidents behind him, but it was such a surprise. He once heard his mother talking about shock and that you can't stop crying. He really liked it how Demyx had kicked the teacher out.

The garden was a tiny spot of green surrounded by the grey houses of London. A door lead from the kitchen onto a beautiful patio, which was framed by wild wine that grew on dark wooden pillars framing the stony ground. Behind the patio followed a deep pond with brightly coloured goldfish in it to the left and a neat grassy lane to the right. And the area behind those were occupied by Madam Mireille and her self grown vegetables and flowers.

As soon as they stepped out of the kitchen onto the red stones of the patio Demyx shut his eyes fast with a irritated tone, coming from the back of his throat. Zexion observed his figure in the bright sunlight. His skin seemed awfully pale, nearly chalk white, his lips appeared a faint blue and he could see the actual haircut he wore. The sides were cut short, while the hair on top of his scalp grew long so it could cover up the shorter parts.

"Madam Mireille?" He called out. "Could you come here for a moment, please?" The bushes parted and spat the tiny figure of Madam Mireille out, who tried to clean her hands from dirt with an equally dirty rag. Her normally neatly ordered grey hair was now out of order and a few branches had gathered in the strands.

"Master Demyx! Inside!" Was the first thing she shrieked as she saw her master in the bright sunlight, holding Zexion's comparable small hand. "How could you go out into the garden. Calling me from the kitchen would've been equally fine!"

Demyx smiled warmly as he rubbed his eyes finally back in the kitchen. Zexion could've sward he saw red streaks rubbed away from under the sea-green-blue-constantly-changing eyes of the vampire. Very dark red...

"Mireille, I fear Mr. Brown didn't turn out as qualified as we thought. Obviously he couldn't bear the fact that dear Zexion here is left-handed." Demyx had equally obviously found his good mood back and appeared to be highly amused over Madam Mireille.

"I know that." She answered him. "I mean, I know he's left-handed, but I haven't said anything. It would've been too late after all to change it. He's too- OH MY!" Again a bone shacking shriek tore through the kitchen as Demyx turned Zexion's injured left hand so the tiny little lady could see the angry red bruise.

Madam Mireille still gaped as Demyx announced with a smile, "I think I can leave things like that. I'll go back to my chambers now." And with that he was gone.

"Oh my!" This was her favourite word of horror. "My! My dear little plum! How could he! I hope he got from Master Demyx what he deserves! If he ever shows up in this house again he'll wish he would've never been born!" She swore a little more as she tore some ice from the basement and a balm from one of the cupboards.

"Oh, Zexion you don't have to cry."

"I haven't cried," but his lie wasn't very satisfying as he rubbed his swollen eyes at the same moment.

"Oh, little plum, I bet it was so astonishing. There's no shame to cry when you're appealed by sudden hurt. We can handle things much better if we're prepared. Sudden violence is just frightening."

* * *

As Zexion lay in his bed at night he couldn't get sleep fro hours. The dinner was the first one when Demyx had joined them. Mostly he and Artur talked about business things and sometimes he exchanged some warm words with Madam Mireille. It was a cheerful and amicable atmosphere over the table and Zexion had felt like an intruder with his dark mood. The meal had been the most luxurious things he'd ever eaten. Red meat (somewhere he'd heard that it should be good for the blood) had always been a piece of unreachable extravagance for his family. After the meal Demyx and Artur had vanished into the office to go through some papers which should be helpful for Demyx when he got to the harbour.

Now Zexion heard him leaving the house. He even heard the little hum on the vampires tongue as he walked through the entrance hall. The front door closed and the house was silent again. Spare for the sobs that tore their way uncontrolled through Zexion's mouth.

In his tiny little tortured soul took a battle place.

He felt so warm and welcome here. It was as if all the years of sorrow and fear and hunger and pain finally had come to a salvation. He had gone through so much. The depletion of his family as his father had died when he was 4 years old. The years with his mother struggling to keep them alive. The loss of that cornerstone of his life. After that the years of insecurity and pursuance with only his sister. And her murder. Many people would've given in to that, but not he. And now he was offered so much warmth, so much love, so much home. And yet he couldn't help than to feel sick at this. This wasn't his family, this was just a fake. Warm people gathered by cold monster who could just pretend feelings with its dead heart.

He had to admit that he really had felt save for the first time after his sister had died as Demyx had hugged him to offer him some comfort. His chest had been cushy cool, the right thing for his flushed face.

He was just a lonely little human that struggled with his believes and his feelings. Aren't we all like that? For poor Zexion it wouldn't be the last night that he fell asleep with tears in his eyes.

* * *

**I hope that the link's working now** http:// kaoru-kina. deviantart. com/ art/ The-narrow-path-between-91587354

**Ah, and the Con-season's going to start. I'm excited to finally work on my cosplays again. It's always a stressy but also funny and joyfull work.**


	8. Learning for life

**Chapter 8 - Learning for life**

"Hello Zexion," he was greeted as he entered the salon the next day around afternoon. He eyed the sitting woman with a hint of suspiciousness and stayed at the doorframe. "My name's Ms. Venable and I'll teach you from today on. Come sit next to me and we can start the lesson." Zexion walked very slowly to the offered seat and much more slowly took it. She just smiled warmly at him, her voice was a little dark for a small woman like her but very kindly in his ears.

"Tell me, Zexion, can you write some things already or can we start with the basics?"

"I can write my name."

"Very well, then take the pen- let's us a pen and not a quill for the start- and write your name here." Again Zexion hesitated a little. The unpleasant memory floated in his mind from yesterdays lesson.

"Uh... in which hand?" He asked her unsure. He heard a little laugh from her.

"Whichever you like more of course!" So he took the pen in his left hand and started to write his name. His teacher always looking concentrated at his work.

"Hmh, and anything else you can write?"

"Uh..." he mumbled something incoherently.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't get that."

"... my sister's name..." She just nodded and gestured to the sheet.

"Then write her name." After some seconds of no movement Zexion wrote down the name that haunted him since the day she'd died. "Zione," she read aloud as he finished. "Very well. You do know the letters from your name. And from now on we'll go through the alphabet starting with, of course, A."

* * *

"So the new teacher is a better one than the last?" Demyx asked as he cut his meat absently. It was dinnertime and according with the sleeping habits of the house's master it took place comparably late in the evening.

Zexion nodded over the flowers on the table towards Demyx. "Yes, Master, she's very nice."

"So there's no need to replace her?" Zexion shook his head. Somehow he still couldn't meet the vampires eyes. "Good, I hoped she would be a success since she was recommended by a business partner. Artur will teach you in the basics of calculating and we'll see if Ms. Venable can also teach you how to play the piano. I hold the view that music is still the best for the soul to gain peace."

"Should I call a coach for later?" Artur asked later.

"For what?" Demyx looked puzzled. It was funny how childish his face could look like if he was caught off guard.

"Your travel to Portugal of course." Artur gave him a 'don't say anything stupid like you always do' -look over his glass of wine. "I know you don't like to travel by ship but you should at least take a coach to the sea-side. As a high ranked business man you owe that your own reputation." Demyx gave a small 'oh' but said nothing.

Later after the dinner they gathered in the entrance hall, Zexion was so tired at this point it was heavy for him to keep his eyes open. He briefly wondered how Demyx would get to Portugal when didn't like it to travel by ship.

"Zexion I want you to study hard until I come back," Demyx squealed his shoulder and threw him a last gentle smile before he vanished through the door in company with Artur.

* * *

Soon after Demyx had gone on his travel to Portugal a daily routine found itself in Zexion's life. Standing up early to help Madam Mireille with the household, a lesson with Artur around noon (he really liked calculating. It was something that seemed to have hidden in him) and at 3 o'clock Ms. Venable would show up to teach him for 3 more hours. Twice a week she would stay longer so he could practice at the big black wing in Demyx' saloon. He was never to fond of that, because the natural feeling for music was lacking in him.

The routine was sometimes broken when the lessons with Artur got in the background when he had to deliver a message or some goods for him. Today he was sent to the docks with a envelope which contained some waybills for a captain who shipped some of Master Demyx' tobacco. It was strange to see the part of London, which was once his home, after a week of absence again. Never before he 'd been away for longer than a day from the docks and the dirtier districts.

"Zexion, is that you?" he turned at the call from behind. There stood a wasted looking woman in the door of the lokal bakery. It was the baker's wife or better said: the bakers widow. He'd passed away years ago and his mother had ever been sure that she'd poisoned her own husband.

"It is you!" she exclaimed happily. "I haven't seen you and your sister around for a while. I heard that Bill's after you two. Where is she?" Zexion was able to keep his face straight.

"She's dead, Mrs. Baker." Since she was now in charge of the fresh bread everybody just called her Mrs. Baker. She clicked sympathetically with her tongue. There was no need to ask for the how or who or when. Mrs. Baker had also grown up in those parts of town where you always have to fear for your life, so she asked instead. "And what about you now?"

"I'm fine. I got work as a delivery boy from a rich tradesman." Well that wasn't the truth but not a lie either. She seemed to sense that and rose a eyebrow in question.

"You did? And? Does he treat you well?"

"Anything's better than here." He told her but halted as he had to think about it. Was he treated well?

"You're damn right. But don't sell yourself under worth. You're a good boy, Zexion." said boy nodded at this.

"I get payed pretty good and have a roof, that's more than I've expected. I've gotta go now, Mrs. Baker."

"Take care of yourself!" she called after him. I hope I can, he thought absently. Don't self yourself under worth. That'd been her words. Well, he would try to do so.

* * *

Today was his forth piano lesson and still it more sounded as if a cat walked over the keys instead of a steady and beautiful flow of a melody. Thank god Ms. Venable was a patient person by nature, but even she now rubbed her temples with her fingers. He threw her an apolitical look. It was true that his talents didn't have their main base in music but the first reason his fingers trembled so hard was the room they were in. It was Master Demyx' salon and right behind his back was the door which lead to the bedroom.

His teacher sighed a little but kept her smile on her lips as she said, "well, Zexion, let's start again from the begin-" She was cut short from the banging sound of a door threwn open. Both in surprise Ms. Venable and Zexion turned in their seats and looked at the previous closed door. Now said door was open an reviled a half naked Demyx with messed up hair and heavy eyes. The open shirt didn't hide anything from his pale upper body.

"No! Please! Don't start again... just..." he inhaled heavy as if suddenly aware about the two pairs of round eyes watching him in shock. "I... just... I'll buy you a knew piano... somewhere else in the house... but please... just stop... it for today."

Ms. Venable was the first that found her voice back. "We're very sorry, my lord. We thought you're still on business trip so it would be okay to play here." She was understandably a little nervous around the lord of the house whom she never met before but who payed her bills.

"... it's ok... just go down and torture the wing no longer... ok?" The two humans nodded and made their way out of the saloon with a adequate hurry, while Demyx was about to close his bedroom door.

"Oh! Zexion!" he called after them. "I want you to come up here when it's about dinner time."

* * *

**well, hello there. this chapter was a kind of art trade with the talented cosplay and drawing artist Siren. you can find her cosplay and art accounts on dA **_http : // akarui-siren . deviantart. com/_** and **_http : // forbidden-siren . deviantart. com/_** (you know the game: copy the link and delete the spaces) I promised her an early special-just-for-you preview of the story while she drew me this wonderful fanart!**

_http : // forbidden-siren . / art / Midnight-Moon-Vampire-109755413_

**and the teacher Miss Venable in this chapter here has an actual person as paragon. you know who you are and I wuv you!**


	9. The Angel with Black Wings

**Chapter 9 - Angel with Black Wings**

The rest of the day Zexion was incredible nervous. Whatever he was doing, being it to scrub the tub or to deliver a envelope two streets down, his thoughts always circled around the events that would take place later that night.

"Master Demyx requested me to his room for tonight," he told Madam Mireille, who was currently arm deep in dough for the next weeks bread. Absently she turned to him, whipping white flour all over her face.

"He did? Well, that's good. I'm out tonight anyway, so I don't have to cook anything. Just grab anything you can get hold on to eat for today." Zexion had to admit that he was a little disappointed by the lack of caring from Madam Mireille. But on the other hand it was what he was payed for, wasn't it? The money he got on a weekly basis, and the Lord knows after that short time he had more money than ever before in his life, was for his service as a help for Madam Mireille in the household and for delivering minor papers for Artur or Demyx. For his blood he'd gotten revenge for his sister's death and his education.

As he knocked at the plain white door again later that night he heard again faint music from the other side, but this time it had a strange exotic character and sounded quite unfamiliar.

He entered the room after a muffled 'come in' and tried to control his racing heartbeat as he adamantly stayed under the door frame. Unlike the first time he was in this room there were only a few candles lit that illuminated the area around the brightly fireplace. Demyx sat in front of it with crossed legs on the thick carpet. The strange shaped blue instrument rested in his lap as he gently stroke its strings. His eyes darted over to Zexion briefly and he could swear that they somewhat glowed sea-green in the dark. But it could've also been the the shadow of the fire, in which Master Demyx' now stone like eyes stared.

"Come and sit here with me, Zexion. Take a pillow and don't be afraid to sit on the ground. I've been to Japan and there even the noblemen and the emperor himself sits on pillows." His voice was low as if his mind was elsewhere, at some point behind those flames. Zexion did as he said, but hesitated to place himself nearer to the vampire as a meter. The tune the vampire played was silent and low and sounded almost sad. It took some minutes to pass until Demyx spoke again.

"I think I have to apologize for my behaviour earlier this day," a faint smile played on his lips and Zexion mumbled something in response. "But I've been very tired and... thirsty from the travel. Though I think I should be used to it by now."

"Have you travelled much, Master?" Zexion found himself asking.

"Hmh," again that humming deep tone in the back of his throat. "You know?" he started, "I've been born in a very cold land. I'm sure you never have heard of it, a island so far north that's there snow nearly all the year. And I wanted to feel the warmth of the air and the water, and the earth. I travelled indeed to many different countries and met many different people, yet to just find out that they're all the same. At least during the end." The air around the vampire seemed to lower some degrees, despite the lively fire, as his unmoving eyes suddenly turned cold. Zexion tried to slide away without moving to much. He was sure he could see the monster he still called his Master clearly in the wild light of the dancing flames.

With a sigh the tension fell from Demyx and his eyes became stony again, the tone as luring as always. "So Zexion, tell me what you've learned during my absence."

The boy had to gulp a few times to gather enough saliva in his mouth to speak. "Uh, Ms. Venable told me the letters till the K. And Artur said I'm ready to calculate with bigger numbers now. And the result of the music lessons..." He trailed of as he saw Demyx' little smile.

"Well, I heard your efforts..."

"Master Demyx! I-" the boy stopped mid sentence as Demyx wrapped the hypnosis around his little mind like a hand killing the flame of a candle. The vampire caught the light child as he was about to crumble down and placed him in his lap. Zexion's head lolled back, exposing his white neck, and rested it on Demyx' shoulder.

Demyx sighed heavy as he embraced the child. "Ah, my dear little Zexion. You have to forgive me for what I do to you. You know? I've never decided to be what I am today. I never had a single chance... never..." The room was silent for some time. Though it was never really silent for Demyx, who could hear the cracking of the fire and the steady calm heartbeat of the boy in his lap as well as the low murmurs of Artur down in his office where he read some numbers out aloud. "I... want you to understand... I gave up on feeling awful for what I do to you humans... but you've awoken those feelings again. But even some dirty creature like myself just wants to live." He bent down and inhaled the sweet scent of virginal skin. "You really have to forgive me as I do not have any other chance... again..." And he bit down gently, his sharp lethal fangs breaking easily through the skin until they reached the much desired blood. Unlike the first time he could control himself, it was still very early and he hadn't put any hypnosis on a human before, which was still a energy sucking process.

After some gulps he quickly healed the wound and carried the limp body into the little chamber the boy called his room. Very gently he lay him down, covered him in the sheets and as he closed his eyes with the silent order to sleep now he asked himself, not for the first time, what his children would've been like, if he ever had had the chance to meet them.

As he stepped down the stair he was light flooded and a little tune formed itself into his mind. He had to write it up later. But not now. He allowed his feet to give in the temptation to run at full speed through the streets, over a bridge, down to the dirty slums, following a heavenly sense he'd caught up the moment he left his house's doors behind.

She once has been so beautiful. And it was that sense of beauty that had lead him to her. She, that was a hooded figure that leaned weakly against the corner of a house, bathed in the sick yellow light of the light street lamp.

And she would die that night.

Not because of him, but of the fever that raged in her tiny body. The fever that made her once pearl-like skin grey and ugly and her bright bright eyes so fogged it was sickening. Her hair clung tightly to her sweat wet face in thick and thin strands of blackness, it kinda looked as if her doll-face had broken up in scattered pieces. And the smell of death surrounded her like mist.

It was that smell, the mixture of disease and the sweetness of sanies and beauty that made her an angel in his eyes. He stepped in front of her, blocking the yellow light and throwing a shadow over her. It took her clouded and fogged mind to react to him, but finally she looked up and met his eyes. For an instant they grew wide and clear, but it was so fast even he couldn't be sure of it. She had recognized him as what he really was.

"Are you finally here?" the voice was just a shadow of its former beauty, but he could still detect the traces of light and nice tones, though all a human would here was a low caw. Now standing on front of her he could smell the source of her disease. The sickening sweet sense of rotting flesh told him the way down her arm into the delicate bud of her hand where dark blood and dirt equally had gathered into a lightly deep cut on the inside of her hand. Perhaps from a knife or a scissor or even just a splinter of glass. He didn't know, but what he knew was that humans were such fragile creatures and on the same time so difficult to kill. How could such a young woman die on something as simple as a cut on the hand, and how could an old warrior, who seeks death in the fight, being the last man standing on a battlefield filled with the corpses of his brothers? He'd seen it all.

"Are you my angel?" His eyes started glowing. Something knowing in her voice was like food for the beast inside his dry heart and his hunger started to roar.

"I am no angel." He answered her sincerely and picked her up. She was very light, the fever had eaten away everything from her. Her eyes rolled around uncontrolled, but her whisper was strong.

"No, you're not. You're my angel of death.... are you... are you here to... take me there?" Those simple words seemed to have exhausted her, since her breathing went heavier. He'd carried her away from the crowded street into an empty backyard. Her body fitted perfectly in his lap as he embraced her like a lover would do. That smell made him more and more thirsty.

"That's perhaps what I am." The sound her lungs made as she inhaled the air was even for him, who could no longer feel like the mortals do, painfully and threatening. He gently stroke the strands out of her face and looked her once again in her eyes before he slowly sank his teeth in the crook of her neck.

Her last words, mere whispers of her parting soul, were low, so low. Oh, my dear beauty. You're mine tonight. You're the princess of the wolves, lay down and sleep my beloved one.

'Thank you' and her soul was away. Leaving a now cold body. Death had taken the look of pain and exhaustion from her face and given her some of her old beauty back. Demyx arranged her body gently, turned his back on her and in the next instant he'd vanished.

'_Thank you_'

* * *

**So, sorry for this one being so short, but I just had to write it after watching some vampire movie.**

**At the moment I'm chatting with a friend about our bottle spinning sins. Truth or Dare, in short. He had to go in 14cm heels, while I had once danced a springdance naked around our cherry tree on new years eve ^____^**


	10. Grey Graveyards

**Chapter 10 - Grey Graveyards**

Mireille didn't bother to knock nor to call out. She knew Demyx'd heard her and awaited her entrance since she'd set foot on the lowest stop of the stair that lead to his floor. The upper salon was bathed in grey light, since it was a very rainy day today, the clouds clung dark and heavy to the sky. She was not surprised to find him already up at this early hour, early for him, it was a very dark day. Demyx sat on the piano bench and played a song she couldn't place right know.

He slid a little to the right to make her some space to sit down. "I'm worried about Zexion. He hasn't come back from his delivery and it's raining pretty badly now." She began, though the tune didn't change at all. Mireille waited a little, listening to the beautiful sound of music and rain.

"Will you tell me the truth about the boy?" The tune went slower, as if he's thinking hard. "He's a good child. And such a tough past. But... you know... it's not like you to show sudden signs of pity on a dirty little boy. Even if you've witnessed such a horrifying scenario, but..." She trailed off as she noticed that the melody changed to moll.

"Can you... remember when I told you about ... how it is not so easy to be... some of my kind?"

"The voices?" He nodded in response.

He nodded and his face seemed like in pain. "When I.... when I first met Zexion... I.... had a fit.... And as his blood was spilled the voices suddenly baked back.... I didn't know why, but it has to do something with his blood. So I took the boy from those cruel man and decided to make him mine, for I can get his blood whenever I am in need of it... I could not have been sure, but I made an excuse. Even if the blood wouldn't bring me the desired salvation I would show an act of humanness to take him from the street. I'm an awful creature, I know."

"And? Does he bring you salvation?"

"Hmh," he played along for a little while. "Yes, he does. Not only his blood. He's still full of fear, like a mirror to the human world. He shows me what I really am."

"Ah, Demyx, you shouldn't punish yourself like that. Don't you think that surviving through all those years is enough of a torture for you? You told me yourself how cruel it is to be the silent witness to all those times. "The music had stopped. "Please don't do this to yourself, you're such a good person. You deserve some peace, despite your crimes."

As he looked up to her from his folded arms his eyes shone in a very humanly way warm. "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" She had to laugh out loud at this.

"Oh, Demyx! My, you should've told me when I actually was beautiful. Now I'm just a little grey haired old woman."

"Real beauty never comes from the outside-" but she cut him off.

"Will you go now and search for Zexion? The rain got harder, if that's even possible," her eyes sparkled in amusement. With a defeated sigh and a smile he stood up and threw his coat over his shoulders. "Go and ask Artur where he'd sent the boy. Perhaps he got lost on the way back."

"No," he shook his head, "I pretty much now where he is. Today it's been exactly a month."

* * *

The cemetery in the heart of the city remained always grey, even at a grey day like this it seemed just a little more greyer than the surrounding grey. But perhaps that's just the nature of graveyards. Like some memento mori of the modern times. Always there to remain you that your end will come. Just for Demyx the end would not come, at least not on a natural way, so he would just live his life the Romans had done. Those who'd invented the whole thing of memento mori in the first place. You will die so just live your goddam fucking life!

Zexion more felt than actually noticed the presence of the vampire. He knew he had entered the cemetery long before he heard the footsteps on the pebbles that covered the path. Today it's been a month since he was left alone in this world. Her grave was like he'd remembered it. Beautiful and dead. The flowers he'd lay down underneath her name was the first of his earned money he'd spend.

"Isn't it a it cold and wet for you to stay here that long?" He didn't get a response. The boy was obviously caught in his own sad thoughts.

"Have you lost the one that means the world to you?" Demyx had to laugh out at this. Never had a human dared to ask him such a thing, they all could figure out how it would go out. But Zexion was just a child? How could he know?

"Actually, yes, I have."

"Who?" His voice was tiny and low as if his mind was still far far away.

"Hmh, everybody. Everybody I once loved is dead. I saw them dying at a great age, because of disease, poison, on the battlefield. Give me a manner of death and I can name you the precious person who died it." Demyx hadn't planned to be so rough with his words, but like he'd said to Mireille the boy was like a mirror and you can't lie to a mirror.

"But you are a vampire. Humans can't mean the same to you. Have you lost your brother?"

Ah, he had for sure a marvellous mind. "You're right. Humans can't mean the same to me as some of my kind. I haven't lost my brother, but many others. Some decided on their own to leave this world and other were hunted down by humans."

"If you know the death so good, do you know-"

"No," Demyx cut him mid sentence. "I don't know what comes after. I always wondered myself. If I will go the same way as you."

"Do you never fear to be sent to hell?"

Demyx chuckled quietly. "Hm, well, if you don't believe in hell you can't fear it, do you?"

Zexion was quiet for a while and Demyx listened to the raindrops which pounded in a nice little melody on the stone of the tombs. He enjoyed the talk with the boy, when he wasn't caught in feelings of fear and hatred towards him he was kinda a decent interlocutor. He didn't evaluate him, he just wanted to know. A refreshing thought.

"So, you're no Christian."

"No, I'm not. I know the doctrine of your god and I've read the bible, but I do not believe in him. I was born in another religion which I still claim to be the mine. But I think that's just the thing with religions at all." His smile was gentle as he remembered his father how he'd tried to teach him the ways of their believe.

"Which religion-" but he was cut again by Demyx who now moved back to the entrance.

"Let's safe that for later. I've promised Mireille to search for you and to take you home. She'll scowl me anyway for letting you out in that rain for so long. She was really worried about you." Zexion turned around to face the vampire and at his last sentence his gaze turned to earth.

"I'm sorry, I haven't thought about that." Demyx chuckle was light and Zexion suddenly felt something heavy draped on his head.

"Here, take my coat. It's a little to big for you but still dry."

"But what about you?", though he already had his arms in the sleeves.

"Ah, don't worry about me. It's kinda unlikely for me to get a cold. And besides you won't argue with your Master?" The amusement sparkled in his eyes and they made their way home.

Of course Madam Mireille threw a tantrum for being so late and so wet and so cold. And she ushered Demyx in a hot bath in his own bathroom before she Zexion practically carried into the great tub in the second stores bathroom.

* * *

**Yes, I know, I'm a horrible person. But, my dear readers, you now get my exact permission to KICK MY ASS if I'm not updating. I just need that from time to time ;)**

**I hope the chapter is in a decent stage, for not beta-reading it.**

**As always: comments, critiques and corrections are always welcome!**


	11. The Cold of the Winter

**Chapter 11 - The Cold of the Winter**

It was two months later when the winter finally came over London and bathed it in a pure, pure white. When Zexion looked out of the window after the first snow he was amazed by how the dirty city looked so clean now; the myriads of little crystals reflected the little light that shone through the heavy blanket of clouds so the ground glowed in an eerie light, so bright it almost blinded his eyes. The entire house, thanks to its huge and high windows, was bathed in that light so he could be sure that Demyx would hole himself up in his room.

Before he had come to the vampire he had always seen the winter as something evil that killed the people and made their lives miserable, but now, with a decent fire in reach and a warm meal in his stomach, he learned the beauty of this season. Ms. Venable had brought a globe with her and had explained, with the help of a candle, the movement of the planet and why there are seasons. Like everything else she told him he absorbed it like a sponge. He had learned the alphabet within a month and now she gave him books to read which were orientated at adults. Even Artur told him that they could go into higher mathematics after Christmas. Master Demyx had told him that he wouldn't celebrate Christmas but another feast which fell on the same date and like all the years before, nobody would question the religion of the other.

Damp, exhausted and with a crimson face Zexion entered the kitchen through the door which lead to the garden from a snow fight with the other children and young adults from the neighbourhood. Young servants and the children of the rich people fought alike for the glory of victory. He held his dirty snow covered boots in his one hand and tried to free himself from the snake-like scarf that clung hot around his neck.

"Zexion, dear, please close the door!" called Madam Mireille and as Zexion turned around he was surprised to find Master Demyx sitting at the big wooden table which dominated the middle of the kitchen. He'd thought to not meet the tall Master until dawn, when the sun would've set.

With the sound of the door closing Demyx opened his eyes again and rubbed with his fingers over his lids to get rid of the painful prickle running through them.

"Zexion," he said, though his face seemed tired, "was the snow fight fun?" Zexion nodded and tried to wriggle his way out of his wet clothes to hung them next to the fire place. "Come here, we were currently talking about the party I'm holding tomorrow evening."

"Which party, Master Demyx?"

"Uh, it's a nasty thing. During the Christmas time," here he made a little face, "my business partners have the tradition to invite their partners to such Christmas parties. Everybody has to throw one and gladly I got to be the first in the row this year."

"And it will be the most wonderful party the Lords and Ladies will see this year!" Mireille said, not without giving Demyx a dirty look for him not even daring to think otherwise.

"Anyway, I wanted to ask you if you would like to work as a servant for my guests. Nothing big: hanging their coats into the wardrobe, offering drinks and collecting empty glasses."

Zexion nodded in reply before taking a sip from the drink Madam Mireille had placed in front of him: hot tea and honey, to warm him from the inside. He calculated in his head that it had been 10 days since their last meeting up in Demyx' saloon, so he would be awaited during the next two or three days. Perhaps even right after the party. Though he knew nothing about Demyx' partners he was excited about the thought of a big event taking place. There would be the best food and expensive wines and beer from what he heard Master Demyx and Mireille discussing.

But the tea and the exhaustion from the fight in the snow got the upper hand over his excitement and Demyx ordered him to go to bed as soon as his eye lids started to get heavy as stones.

* * *

As Zexion got up the next morning, Madam Mireille had knocked on his door as the world was still pitch black outside, he felt a nagging headache in the back of his skull. With swollen eyes and dishevelled hair he entered the kitchen just to be run over by a big boy with a mountain of pots in his arms.

"Zexion!" he heard Madam Mireille calling and was pulled back into a corner by a strong hand on his shirt. "My! Little plum! Don't stand in the way or you'll be run over again. And next time the person might carry the knifes."

"Who are all these people?" Zexion asked amazed by the number of persons fitting in the kitchen.

"Oh, paid workers who help me with the food and all. Here, take that roll and you better make your way out of here. Artur should await you in the office for your clothes for tonight."

As he crossed the entrance hall to get to the saloon he was nearly run over by people again. The saloon itself was in various states of decoration.

"Ah, there you are, Zexion. Please, come here into the light and the couturier will take your measures," Artur waved him to a little stool in front of the window and a well fed looking woman took out her tape and started to take the length of his arms.

"Ah, Master Coerdu la Quaorix, should I take your measurements as well when I'm finished with the boy?" Zexion looked up and saw a tired looking Demyx standing in the dark part of the saloon. The window where the stool stood was the only one which curtains remained open.

Demyx threw the couturier a charming smile from which he knew it would wrap her into his likings like one of her expensive cloths. "Ah, dear Miss, I fear I have enough of your excellent work already in my wardrobe, the choice is big enough." He threw Zexion a worried look. "Zexion, is everything all right with you? You look ghostly pale." His voice held that much concern that Zexion couldn't help but blush at it.

"I'm fine, Master. Just a headache." He mumbled to his feet, though his head was about to explode at the time. His upper back hurt like he'd hit it and a nauseous feeling found its way into his stomach.

"I think I've got the right thing for him!" exclaimed the little woman in front of him and pulled a dark blue piece of cloth out of her bag. "This colour will match perfectly with his eyes. Really, I've never seen eyes like this before!"

"I trust your sense for colour, my dear," Demyx said with a smirk, though his eyes were fixed on Zexion. "I have to overview the other processes. -To make sure Madam Mireille won't buy a swan of ice for the party."

"Knowing her she would scare a real swan to sit still for the whole evening." Artur commented dryly. Demyx threw him one last pained smile and vanished for the rest of the day.

* * *

It was late in the evening as the first guests arrived; the sun had set early this day and the whole house was filled up with an excited atmosphere. Though Demyx, who greeted the guests, seemed more annoyed than anything else and some gentleman, who were accompanied by fluttered Ladies, shared his bitter look. As predicted it was Zexion's duty to take the coats and scarves from the rich party and then to hang them into the wardrobe, which was actually a little room right next to the entrance door. Demyx always told him who would come in in the next second and in which business they worked together. Most of the men owned parts of the ships which sailed the Atlantic, just like Demyx himself, and most of them came in company of a, if not beautiful then garnished, women.

"You're sure you're feeling fine, Zexion?" Demyx threw him a suspicious glance. During the day when Zexion had helped to cut the flowers his facial colour had changed from a healthy looking pink to a ghostly white. His skin was nearly as white as Demyx', so no wonder the vampire worried about his little servant.

"I'm fine," was again the answer from the boy, who mumbled it to his feet, Demyx didn't remove his gaze from him, which was somewhat unnerving for Zexion.

* * *

"Oh, you have to be Zexion, my dear," the woman bent down to better see him as she accepted the glass of wine he had offered her,

"Yes my lady," he answered, though he didn't know where he'd seen that woman before.

"My husband had told me much about the new delivery boy from his partner Mr. Coerdu la Quaorix, and I just had to see if it's true that your eyes are really purple."

Zexion didn't know how to respond to that properly. "Yes, my lady, they are the eyes of my mother."

"Oh," she said before sipping her wine, " I bet she was beautiful! And? Do you like it here, Zexion?"

As kindly as her smile seemed this woman probably never suffered hunger before in her life, so Zexion was tempted to give her a n"always better than rotting on the street" as an answer. "Yes, my lady. Master Demyx's very kind to me." Her smile grew a little wider, though it didn't quite reach her eyes as she examined him from head to toe.

"But you look a little green, are you sure you're feeling all right?" At this point the headache behind his brow had turned into a glowing hot dagger sending waves of pain through his skull and the sweet scent of the salmon made his stomach twist in nauseous waves. But Madam Mireille had put so much effort in this party and Artur had told him how important it was for Master Demyx to please his partners and guests, so he would rather take a real dagger than ruin this. After all, anything is better than rotting in the street or working to death in a factory.

"Thank you very much for your concern, my lady, but I really feel fine."

"Well, then don't let me hold you up any longer. Go ahead, little servant" She watched him as he made his way through the crowd of well-dressed people to collect some empty glasses near the window. Lady Verona, mother of four boys though, walked in the opposite direction where the host held a little conversation with a judge from the eastern districts.

"Monsieur Demyx?" she asked with a charming smile. Said person's face, stern in a serious chat, split up in a glowing smile as he noticed her delicate figure.

"Lady Verona! What a pleasure! Here, I see you're equipped with enough to drink?" Judge Manson was obviously disappointed by the loss of his conversation partner and excused himself. As soon as he was out of sight Demyx sighed deeply and smiled apologetically to her.

"I'm sorry, Verona. If it wouldn't be for Mireille I don't know if I would survive the evening." Lady Verona and Demyx Coerdu la Quaorix had soon discovered that they both were some kind of outsiders to the society they moved in. Verona was an absolutely loyal wife, who tried to be a loving mother and a woman with social life and Demyx, who always was rather shy towards other people, even when he had to attend business with them.

She smiled genuinely and leant forward for some private sentences. "Do you know who's also not going to survive the evening, if you ask me?" Demyx eyed the party suspiciously, leaning his head down to her as if he could hear her better that way.

"No, who?"

"Your little servant boy, Zexion. A nice child if you ask me." His head snapped to face her. The sparkling amusement never left her face, though. "In this moment he's probably fighting the most nagging headaches in his young life."

"How can you know? I mean, he looked quite pale, but he told me he's all right..." He muttered, somewhat under his breath.

She threw him a scowl, "I can tell, as a mother of four boys, who all love playing in the snow, thank you very much. He probably caught a cold, you should send him to bed before he collapses." He nodded to her in thanks and made his way to Zexion, ignoring the polite tries to wrap him into conversation.

"Zexion?" The boy turned around to face the man and caught a glass with his sleeve. Again, Zexion couldn't make out the fast movement as Demyx caught the fragile thing, though this time it was probably thanks to his brain.

"Uh" was his eloquent answer. His head pounded and his skin felt like it would peel off at any minute.

"Come, we're going to go outside," came a blurred sound into his mind.

As soon as the white door to the saloon had closed behind them, the little boy struggled with his feet and stumbled right in Demyx's arms. Spasms shook him and the vampire was fast to snatch a vase to hold it under Zexion's mouth. If he would've had eaten anything today he would've vomited it right now, but now just bitter acid came out of the tormented boy.

"Demyx!" Mireille hissed as she closed the door behind her. "What's happening here? Oh my! Zexion! What's wrong with him?" she hurried to where Demyx had placed the shivering boy into his lap, holding him tight to protect him from hurting himself during his cramp.

"Verona said he caught a cold, but now I'm not so sure about it." Mireille knelt down and placed a hand on Zexion's forehead.

"Lady Verona? How could she know?"

"She said she knows it from her sons. She advised me to bring him outside before he could collapse in the saloon. I think we just made it in time." As he said this the tiny body spasmed again and tried to curl into a little ball. Demyx tightened his embrace.

"He has a fever. I don't think it's just a cold. The Thomas boy with whom he played yesterday has the flu. Here, I'll bring him to bed, you go back to the guests!"

"Don't be ridiculous Mireille, you can't even carry him!"

"But Demyx, the guests! This party is important, and you know it!"

He sighed deeply and looked deep into her eyes. "Mireille," he began gently, "I appreciate how much you care. But just allow me to take Zexion upstairs and I'll be back down straight after. Promise." Now it was Mireille's time to sigh.

"Right. Not that I can stop you. Go ahead." She got up and ordered her long skirts. Demyx lifted the now shivering child in his arms.

As he laid him down in his bed he placed his right hand over the hot and sticky forehead. It was as if the coolness was some kind of relief for the pained boy, as he sighed in exhaustion.

He knew he couldn't do anything for him, so he just sent him into a deep, deep slumber where he could, or so Demyx hoped, find some healing.

* * *

**Yosh for a new update!**

**I have to dedicate it to my new beta-reader Emmyw, ho offered me her skills so kindly. Thanks again, dear ^^**

**This chapter appears to the right time of the year, even if I hadn't planned it to be uploaded around christmas. It was written during summer.**

**Anyway, I wish the all of you Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!**


	12. Hot Feaver

**Chapter 12 - Hot Feaver**

"It's rather unusual for the Lord of the house to take care of an ill servant." The voice was foreign but not displeasing.

"I know, but my other servants are old and I don't want them to catch anything." He knew that

voice, it made his stomach prickle with every word.

"A wise attitude, though like I said not very common. Don't you fear to get infected as well?"

"I never get ill. Don't worry about me."

"Well... still, do wash your hands every time after you have touched him. With soap and hot water is best. And make sure that he doesn't cough in your direction."

"I'll take care of that."

"Do you know if he ever had a more serious disease before?"

"I don't know... He's only been in my service for a few months... he mentioned getting the flu, though. I think it was a year ago or so."

"Hmh, well, if he survived it once his chances are high to get through it this time..." The voices washed together in one big blur as the fever rose again in his head. He was so hot on the inside that he wanted to pull the thick and heavy blanket away from his body, but his limbs did not want to move as he wished them to. A strange heaviness had befallen his arms and legs and a big weight pressed down on his breast.

"Poor Zexion..." Demyx murmured as the young doctor left the room to give Artur the receipt for the medicine. He knew that he couldn't get a good hold on the strings of the boy, but despite that knowledge, he tried again, placing his hand over the feverish, smoldering eyes and searching for the strings of will. And again they were moving fast and were slippery and he just couldn't grab them. Zexion whimpered at this and Demyx pulled his hand away. The boy threw his sweaty head from one side to the other, seeing demons only visible for his fever tortured mind.

Demyx's guts cramped as he saw Zexion like this; the boy's pain hurt him as well.

The vampire had always sought the company of humans, through the decades and centuries he had always lived with humans, next to them and their hearts. Though he had never gotten so attached to a single human like this. He loved Mireille and Artur more than he could say, but they were connected through blood and war and time. Zexion had only been there for a brief a part of his life and yet the boy was that precious to him.

The brooding over the feverish child's bed was no help. It had been two week since he had last drank from Zexion and sometimes during the day he could hear faint whispers in the dark places of his mind, voices trying to rise out of their hiding place as consequence. But he would rather spent a whole day in the bright sunlight than drink from the ill child.

Hm, love is a strange thing, he thought as he left the small room, sometimes it can save you. And sometimes it kills you.

* * *

"Demyx?" He looked up and saw the little figure of Madam Mireille against the dim light of the late afternoon. For a moment he saw again that young and beautiful bride, who he had guided to the alter himself. "What did the doctor say?" Her voice hold concern, too many people had been lost in her life.

He rubbed his eyes tiredly to rid himself of the hunting ghosts of the past. "He said that he'll most likely make it. He's young and in a healthy shape. But you and Artur shouldn't go near him. I don't want you to get infected-" he stopped as he noticed what he was about to say.

"Yes, we're getting old, aren't we?" she asked but smiled also at this. "What a life," she sighed more to herself, "I'll go and make some broth for us, you can give it to our little plum later. When was the last time you got some sleep?"

"Hmh, don't worry about me. I'll be fine." She threw him a more than sceptical look, which said 'I don't believe one word' but turned around. As soon as he was out of eye and earshot he let himself fall against the wall. The vision of the young Mireille was no good. Like little waves on a normally quiet lake tiny voices rose up to fills his mind.

"_Don'ttakemylife!Spareme!letgoletgoletgooo_!" Demyx gave a pained sound and rubbed his temple feverishly. He rose to his feet and stumbled to the staircase, acting as if he were under a fever like Zexion was. So now he even heard faint words again. It won't take any longer till his full curse was back to torture him. He just wanted to lay down in his bed, bury himself in the blankets and fall into a deep and heavy sleep for some weeks. The voices would still be there, but just like a mere human nightmare.

But he had to care for Zexion, he could never bear it if Artur or Mireille got infected. So all he could do was bear it.

* * *

As Zexion woke up he felt incredibly light. His mind was weightless and slow like a feather dancing through a room. The bed was still warm and he felt comfortable. As his feet met with the wooden floor he felt an equally comfortable chill.

Judging from the plain white light entering the little room it had to be early in the morning. Zexion was rather surprised that he never had seen the beauty of the young day before. Everything was calm and serene, light and clean. The whole house wassilent and peaceful. He sat down on the first step of the stair and let his thoughts wander without even thinking. Had it not been for the cold that slowly crawled up his legs from under his nightgown, he would have sat there for ever.

He reluctantly got up and made his way slowly down the stairs to enter the kitchen where Madame Mireille sat next to the bright window, knitting something, and watching the white beauty of the snowy garden.

The only noise filling the room was the clattering of her needles in a steady rhythm. She herself seemed to not be aware of her surroundings, her eyes were glassy as she examined the outside garden. As Zexion made a movement she looked up.

"Zexion. What are you doing here. And why are you out of bed?" The calm morning had also its effect on Madam Mireille, or at least it appeared so.

"I got hungry, Madam Mireille," Zexion answered and sat down next to her on a wooden chair. They remained a little there, both in their own thoughts. Mireille's seemed far away, while Zexion's still had the consistence of syrup. As the light turned yellow and the sun was finally up the silence suddenly passed and Madame Mireille stood up.

"Well, well, my little plum. You seem to be better. But you still need to stay in bed. Get upstairs and I'll bring you some broth. Hurry!"

* * *

It took Zexion two more days of deep sleep and much more broth to recover completely. Judging from how happy Madame Mireille was about his well-being, he had been in a very bad condition. He still tried to restore his lost memories from the past week. Everything seemed to be a blur.

To help him recover faster, he was freed from the housework for the next week, though Ms. Venable started her lectures on an easy level the first day he was allowed to leave the bed.

"Zexion, dear, be so nice to bring Master Demyx his pies and the tea, I have to tend this goose or the flesh will be as hard as nails." She gestured to a silver ray with a nice porcelain tea pot on it, the matching cup upside down next to it, and again the already well-known very sweet pies.

"Of course, Madame Mireille," escaped his lips, though he suddenly felt ncredibly nervous. Not that it was the first time that he brought Demyx tea. At this time of the day, it was late afternoon, he would probably be up and playing one of his numerous instruments.

But as he stood in front of the door that lead to the vampire's chambers he heard no music from behind. So he knocked, though he knew that the vampire would've probably already heard him when he started his way up the stairs.

"Master Demyx, I brought you the tea" he called out uncertainly after entering the saloon. Nothing seemed to have changed, but Zexion still could sense it in the air. The thought had come to him earlier: Demyx hadn't drunk his blood for two weeks as he had gotten the flu, and now had been out for another week and a half. Whatever it was, that was torturing the vampire it sure hadn't been lost during those last weeks. He placed the tray on the table and neared the bedroom door to see if the vampire was still asleep.

To his surprise, the door was wide open, revealing a unmade bed and dusty air. The thing Zexion had sensed while entering the room was here stronger. A strange smell of metal in the air.

There led two doors to the bedroom. The one Zexion had taken seconds ago came from the saloon, while the other led to the bathroom. Zexion had learned to hate that room, thanks to Madam Mireille's obsession of cleaning. The whole bathroom was larger than his own chamber and from bottom to ceiling paved with white tiles, in the middle of the room was a large round tub, embedded in the floor.

Now the door to said bathroom was open, or at least the wood didn't connect with the frame. But behind that it was dark. With trembling fingers Zexion's hand moved out of his own to pull the doorknob and to open it. Why was the dark bathroom and the metallic scent in the air so attractive for him?

Zexion could swear that he saw a dark spot on one of the white tiles, before a hand slipped into his vision and his heart practically stopped.

"There're things you shouldn't see, little Zexion."

Zexion's breath was briefly stolen from him, "Master Demyx...!" he whispered. With gentle force Demyx lead him back to the saloon and closed the bedroom door before he placed the boy in a chair in front of the tea.

"My, you're white as a ghost, have I really scared you that much?" With still trembling fingers Zexion accepted the warm cup of tea and he just shook his head. Wearily, he eyed his master, and again his breath stopped. Since Demyx had called him pale, he probably hadn't looked in a mirror lately (still Zexion had to find out if this myth was true about the vampire). He was as white as the wall. As if he had powdered his skin with chalk. The eyes had sunk low into their sockets and they seemed to glow from an invisible light. The most frightening thing were Demyx's hands. Of course he had always noticed the claw-like nails, but now with the incredible long and skinny fingers it looked as if a demon of hell was taking one of the pies.

'He hasn't drunk anything,' shot into his mind, before he could even register all the changes in Demyx' appearance.

"So, I see you've recovered well from the flu. The doctor I called said you had a good chance, but it stays a serious illness. How are you feeling?"

"Good," he whispered and then cleared his throat, "though I can't recall anything from the time of my sickness. Madame Mireille told me that I've had a fever for one week, but the last thing I can clearly recall is the Christmas Party." He eyed the vampire warily and decided to go in another direction. "But today I'm feeling really fine. I could run an errand for you." Demyx smiled and it was a smile that told him his strategy had been seen through.

"That's very nice of you, but I think I'll let you rest for at least another week. You need to get back to your old strength. Not curing a disease at this young age can bring serious problems to you, when you get older-"

"Master Demyx! You have to drink something!" Zexion shouted out to interrupt his master's flow of babbling. The vampire hesitated for a second and then swirled his cup in his left hand with a smile on his lips.

"But I am drinking. You see it. Right now. Sweet tea."

"Master, that is not what I meant. And you now that." Zexion felt cheated and he got angrier the more he saw the little smile of the vampire.

"And what exactly is it, that you are talking about?"

Zexion pouted and blushed a little at this. How unfair of his master to play such nasty games with him! "You now exactly what I mean," he mumbled under his breath, but he was sure Demyx could hear him.

All he heard was a deep sigh. Demyx put his cup down and lay his hand on the tiny shoulder. "Zexion, you may not believe me but you grew precious to me. As a human and not as my solution for my problems. And I care about those who are precious to me. So there won't be any discussion. You're resting for another week and then we will see. Right? Good. And now let's share this cake here."

Later in the night while the master was out, something stirred in Zexion's stomach. It made him twitchy and warm inside. _You grew precious to me..._

* * *

**Happy New year to everbody! Thanks to Emmy again, who beta-ed this chapter within the speed of light!**

**2009 was a year where I made huge steps forward in cosplay an writing as well. It's three days of the new year and I already have two new cosplays xD I'm going to compete in the national cosplay competition in my land this years with a partner cosplay. I also intend to finish this and the other fanfiction as well and I also have spin-of story to this one in mind.**


	13. Oh, dearest Brother

**Chapter 13 - Oh dearest brother**

And so time went on. Days flew by like calender sheets and on every one of them was written a new letter or a new bit of knowledge. Soon, Zexion could read whole books alone and he grew faster and faster at absorbing the stories like a sponge. So Miss Venable lay the focus on the basic education, like history, art and geography. The days grew longer as the shadows on the pebble stones grew shorter and the snow baked away to give place to the ever present rain of London.

For Zexion life couldn't be happier. Of course, he still missed his sister, and every month there was a new flower on her grave. But Zexion had a feeling deep down that his sister was pleased with his current situation. She had always wanted the best for her little brother, putting his well being before her own. She had been a sister first and a woman second. He always thought about her in the early morning hours, whenthe world was grey and clean at the same time.

And it was in one of those grey hours in the early, early morning in the middle of march that his perfect world crumbled down.

It was still cold for this time. The morning winds were biting in your skin when you got the un-luck to enter the street, although there wasn't snow any more, there was still fresh ice in the ponds and on top of the river every morning. Fog swirled like ghosts through the streets, heavy detached to the ground. But the pure and bright sunlight the flew through the clouds changed this grey and dark world into a glittering place where everything was as clear as the chilly air.

Zexion entered the saloon on the first floor. Which was quite a achievement judging from the heavy loaded tray in both his arms. He balanced it carefully on one arm -quite expensive china after all, worth more than himself on a slave market- to shut the door behind him. Madam Mireille had dusted and cleaned them with great care and had let them dry over the night. She hadn't wanted to scratch the flowers with a cloth, so now Zexion brought them back into their place as an eye catcher in the saloon.

He placed the tray on the big table, turned and suddenly got aware of the tall lanky figure standing in the bright morning light in front of the huge window. Zexion inhaled sharply. The figure appeared to stand there for eternity but also to have shown up just a second before.

Zexion gulped down his fear and surprise. "Er, who are you.... sir?" he added uncertainly. Before being addressed the man had stood perfectly still... Just like a lifeless statue.

He took one step away from the window, now, with the bright and blinding light behind him Zexion could see that the man was indeed unnaturally tall. From his point of view even doubly as tall as himself. Tall, lanky, nearly painfully thin and red hair so unruly that several spikes had escaped his ponytail. A very handsome-looking gentlemen, dressed in the attire of the Parisian Upper Class.

But Zexion could not be fooled. As the guy had turned around Zexion had seen the eerie glow in his eyes, that flickered now in their sickening green, like poisonous flames in a deadly fire. He knew what this man was. And with just a look the man knew now that he was aware.

"Would you be so kind to tell Master Coerdu la Quaorix that I have arrived? He will know who I am." He spoke with a light French accent, but again Zexion couldn't be fooled. He could tell that the accent was false, but he did hear the same strong and hard tones that were so similar to the way his master spoke.

The fear for his master and the way the foreign vampire looked at him and spoke to him made him more angry than fearful. "The Master is still asleep, I fear. It has been a long night for him. But if you like I would gladly make you an appointment so you can come back at another, more adequate time." Again, Zexion hadn't noticed the cruel smile on the thin and colourless lips until it worsened.

He was sure he hadn't blinked, not even a second he would let a creature like him out of his sight. But suddenly he stood in front of him, closer than was comfortable. That smile was almost a smirk now.

"I'm very sure he'll find the... ah motivation to get up for me... whatever may have been last night." The French accent had gone, Zexion noticed. But still he was too stubborn to give in to the stranger, who made so much more a fearful vampire than his gentle master. And it had been a rough night for Demyx. He'd come back just some hours ago, clothes drenched in blood, his expression furious and a heavy, stormy sea in his eyes. He had been woken up by the noises in the entrance hall. Artur and Mireille had tried both to calm him but when they noticed Zexion Demyx had rushed up the staircase, leaving the door open for Artur to follow him. Mireille had hushed him back in his bed and had promised to explain it to him in the morning.

He'd found out that there were a handful of lower vampires in the dirtier streets and last night one had dared to disturb Demyx, who was a far better vampire than those scum.

"I don't know what you think you know about last night, sir, but my Master is in no good shape, so would you please be so kind to come back at another time?" Now the smile had for sure changed into a cruel smirk.

The vampire stepped forward. Fast. He grabbed Zexion's right wrist in an iron grip. He didn't know what he'd expected, but the hotness on the skin was sure surprising. Zexion gasped in pain and tried effortless to free himself from the deadly creature. "You have to be his new pet, Tyr knows why he always keeps humans around him." The pain was to hard to bear, his wrist grew hotter and hotter, it didn't matter how much he struggled. The strange man would still stand there tall and unmoving and smirking cruelly.

"Did your dear master forget to tell you to let me enter whenever I show up? No? Hm, not very thoughtful of him when he wants to keep you for himself. After all, we'd always shared everything we have." For the vampire it was like breaking a small twig as, with a turn of his hand, he broke every little bone in Zexion's wrist. The cry needed only a second to leave his mouth and was then drowned out by a loud crash in the wings as the white doors banging open by themselves.

Demyx rushed into the room, his face white and his expression furious. With eyes more of an animal than a human, every drop of water in the room, from all the vases and fish bowls (leaving enough water for the fish to breath) poured out of their containers and hit the lanky vampire, hard, throwing him all the way into the wall enough force that cracks formed in the white tapestry. Soaked and breathing hard, the foreigner tried to get up but with a angry flick of Demyx's hand the water changed direction and whipped him off his feet and into the corner, where he knew better than trying to get up again.

Demyx spun around and knelt down beside the huddled figure. Zexion had curled into a tight ball, protecting his injured left hand and giving whimpers and little cries of pain. As he looked Demyx in the eyes panic overtook him. He had only once before seen the sea and there was a storm raging outside. The waves were of deathly iron blue and these waves were now in his gentle master's eyes.

Demyx gently took the cringing boy in his lap, brushing his cheek absently while making soothing noises. "Sh, sh, Zexion, it's all right. Sh, did you hear a crack?" Somehow he managed to nod in his pain. "Sh, it's ok." Demyx closed his eyes to force the inner beast back into its realms, then he gently put his fingers on the boy's temples. He was delighted when Zexion went limp in his arms and the tensed muscles relaxed.

"You know-" began the man from behind, but was immediately silenced by the wild look in Demyx' eyes.

"YOU! Stay silent!" He stood, taking the light boy with him. "Zexion," he called in a soothing voice, "does it still hurt?"

"Yes master."

"Do you still feel the pain?"

"No master." Relieved, Demyx's shoulders relaxed.

He carried Zexion out of the saloon, aware that the red haired man was following them, up the stairs and into Zexion's room. With a kick he got rid of the blanket and laid the boy down. He took the broken wrist in both his hands. Behind him the door was closed.

"I came all the way from France, from Paris to you. I even travelled by ship, and you know how much I hate the thought of being surrounded by water. I took a coach as soon as I entered London. And I did all that to just see you, Dem. And that's the way you greet me?"

"Keep your foul mouth closed, Axel. How could you break the bone of one of my servants!?" Came the hissed response. He shook his head, concentrating back on Zexion then. It seemed as if only the ulna and radius were broken. Zexion's head lay facing him nd he felt observed by those clouded purple eyes. He knew that his little servant still was in there, somewhere deep. Only his thoughts were slow and that he was more of an outsider in his own body.

"It was his own fault."

"Haven't I just told you to shut up?"

_So Axel was his name, but who was this odd looking stranger? A vampire, that's for sure, and a mighty one, just like Master Demyx,_ Zexion thought. As always when he was under his master's control he felt like he was in dream just before it ended. Now the stranger came closer and knelt down behind his master. Like snakes the long and thin arms encircled his master.

"Didn't we always share whatever we have?" He whispered into the blond hair of Demyx' neck. Zexion noticed how his master began to tremble at these words. "Like the brothers we are?"

"Go away and let me heal what you've damaged!" Demyx cried out and shoved his visitor away. He looked Zexion in the eyes, but even in his state, Zexion saw that his master must be seeing something else. He bit into the palm of his hand until it was smeared with blood and then he started massaging the injured wrist. He felt a strange and cold prickle on his skin, something entirely indescribable. As he looked up again, Zexion's breath hitched; his master was the monster he had always feared! The skin the colour of bleached bones, the inhuman features, the deadly glow in his eyes and his teeth and lips stained with crimson. Nonetheless, he did not feel threatened by him,

"Go to sleep now, Zexion, tomorrow there'll be everything fine," and so things went black again.

Demyx stood up, turned, and nailed his brother with an iron glare. "How could you dare harm my servant?!" his voice was calm, but Axel had known him long enough to hear the subtle tones in it. For one there was the not-so-well-controlled fury, then there was also the ire and hidden deeper beneath those there was the arousal.

"His blood smells as sweet as his eyes are purple. I just couldn't resist." Demyx lashed out and slammed Axel hard into the wall.

"He's absolutely forbidden! Do you hear me?! One bite and I won't hold myself back, brother or not!"

Then there crept that smirk on Axel's features again as he gently encircled Demyx' wrists. Oh, how much he loved that smirk and how fast his self control melted.

"_Besides, I couldn't resist to see you that angry either,_" he said, changing to the language they'd spoken as humans. The tongue of their fathers. "_I always love to see that in your eyes, this raging sea._" His face came closer to get a better look into those pools of blue and green and iron. "_And now I fear I cannot hold myself back, not with you already stained in blood._" Axel leaned down, threw Demyx hard around so that he had the wall in his back now. "_Let me taste you_."

Demyx gave up his struggle and hugged Axel hard, gasping silently as his brother started to lick the blood from his lips. How long had it been since he'd last seen him, felt him? It seemed like centuries now. He opened his eyes a slit and took a deep breath of Axel's flavour. The breath stopped mid-way in;

Zexion still had his eyes open and wet streams of glittering tears leaped down from them. Within a second Demyx was again kneeling besides his bed. "Oh, Zexion, does it hurt so much that you can't go to sleep?" he asked while he brushed the tears away. "Wait, I will help you to bear it." He searched for the strings and put Zexion in a deep, deep sleep. He wouldn't wake up the whole next day, but perhaps it was for the best. He should remember to tell Madame Mireille about it. Or better not to; she hated Axel with a passion. Sometimes he couldn't be angry at her because of that.

"_I see, I won't get what I want in here. Why is this little human so special to you?_" Demyx got up once again and led Axel by the hand out of the little chamber and into his saloon. He opened the wide window and stepped out into the chilly night.

"_This boy is my salvation_." Axel just gave an understanding grunt. He knew him so well, only that sentence would be enough for him. Still, he was mad at him.

"_How old are we?"_

"_What?"_

"_You heard me_"

"_Why the heck are you asking me something like that in a situation like this?_"

"_The boy had asked me, I was surprised I can't name the years_."

Axel was silent for some time and let his gaze wander over the sleeping city as well. "_Since the day that that witch Jenova... that Mother changed us into what we are now, 674 years have passed._"

"_Plus the 18 years of our mortal lives, we are 692 years old. Wow._"

"_Yup._"

The silence settled for a time over them until Demyx leaned his head on Axel's shoulder. "I'm glad you came. Of course I'm still mad about what you did to little Zexion, but I just realise now how much I missed you."

Axel smiled warmly and hugged his brother with one arm. Then his smile turned into a lustful grin that Demyx didn't need to see to know of its presence.

* * *

**Whuiii~ I was so looking forward to this change!**

**Axel's just the perfekt bad guy, I love to picture him as an ass xD The reason I made him Demyx' brother here will be revieled later in the story. Some of you have already asked who this ominous brother could be Demyx was talking about. Ah, Axel, he's still my love, of course I couldn't go with this sotry without him :)**

**Oh, and he'll turn hotter with every new chapter xD**


	14. The Sweet of the Night

**Chapter 14 - The Sweet of the Night**

The night was cool and sweet, dark and perfect. Axel was stronger, but Demyx was faster. Their race over the roofs of the city, through the towers and chimneys ended suddenly in front of a huge clock as Demyx spun around to grab Axel by his clothes, tearing them apart as he did so, and biting his shoulder hard. The blood poured out of the wound, immediately sucked away by Demyx as the other vampire's knees buckled and he sank into his brother's greedy arms. Still sucking the crimson life out of him, the blond took him hard and forcefully, Axel unable to protest.

Breathing heavily, Demyx lingered over his brother, who looked up at him with clouded eyes. His eyes glowed like the stars and his skin was the colour of fine porcelain, though he'd just drank Axel nearly dry. "_You're so beautiful_" Axel whispered and took his remaining powers to lift himself up on the elbows to capture Demyx's blood stained lips between his teeth. Gently he sucked the remaining blood, his own blood, from the lips.

Demyx breathed faster again and a little pleasured whimper escaped him as Axel's white teeth bore through his lips. This time they loved each other silently on top of the church.

"Come" Axel whispered in his ears as they lay bathing in the starlight. "I'm hungry. I haven't eaten for some days. Like I said, I've travelled by ship." He received a little love bite from his companion. "Ah, I'm sorry."

"You're tired?"

Again just a little laugh in response. "Not a bit. Don't make yourself false hopes. You're still not gonna catching me." And with this he was up, quick as the water he presented, and down the tower towards the dark streets.

They would hunt this night, that was for sure, and they would love each other again and again before the sun rose.

* * *

Zexion woke up slowly, the action easier said than done. He felt himself waking up and drifting back to sleep several times, before he finally managed to climb out of the swampy arms of sleep. With still-blurred vision, he swung his feet over the edge of his bed and touched the cool wooden floor with his toes. He noticed that he was wearing his nightgown, though he had the feeling that this wasn't right. Clouded memories flooded his mind. A tall man with bright red hair. A vampire as well. And then there was his Master and then just pain.

With a sigh, he fell backwards onto the cushions again. His eyes observed the ceiling as he tried to remember, though it was no use. He got up and followed a feeling left over from his dreams towards the door and out onto the chilly floor. He did not know why, but his feet led him up again into the now grey saloon of Master Demyx. Judging from the light it was still very early in the morning, the world was still clean.

His feet made their way through the room and through the high doors which lead to the bedroom. Strangely the curtains were wide open as well as the window itself so little flakes of snow could drift in and out the freezing room.

Later he asked himself, why for god's sake he had gone into that room? Which voice had it been that had called him here?

The bed was a mess, usual as Master Demyx slept in it, blankets pulled everywhere. As the little servant made his way to the bed his foot touched something cold. And as he looked down a high-pitched cry escaped his throat and he fell backwards, eager to get away from what lay there on the floor.

It was a boy, and judging from the pale skin, the frozen face and the several wounds on his neck, wrist and hip he was dead. He was also naked, only a little white blanket hiding his body.

He was so skinny, like Zexion had once been, and his hair was yellow, like the sun. But Zexion was mostly affected by those eyes. They were sky-blue, though they now had the look of broken glass, their owner being dead and all.

Staring into those eyes, Zexion felt bile rise his throat.

"Please behave yourself. I don't feel like explaining to him that you saw this," came a sneaky and sleepy voice from the bed.

The red headed vampire had awoken. He sat upright and brushed his fingers through his unruly hair as Zexion looked up at him. His skin was chalky and was so skinny that Zexion couldeasily count every bone. Now that the naked figure was upright Zexion could see the equally naked back of his master.

"Don't worry. He's sleeping like a bear," said Axel, who obviously judged from Zexion's look. "The name's Axel, got it memorized. And sorry for your wrist, got a little carried away." With a mental start, Zexion remembered the source of the pain from his dreams and looked down at his left wrist. It was swollen, blue and purple, but the pain was bearable... As if he'd only twisted it slightly. As he heard a rustling noise, he panicked and looked up again with big round eyes at the vampire.

Now a cruel smile played on those lips and the sick green of his eyes seemed to glow a little. "Are you afraid?" he whispered so low Zexion could barely hear him, yet it sent a electric spark down his spine and made the hairs on his neck stand up. He managed to nod. "You better be, we're fed, but we're still vampires. Old and mighty ones." The smirk grew with every word.

"Please be so kind and forget that little boy here on the floor. Demyx, I don't know why, feels so attached to humans. He always needs them around him. And knowing that you know about his true nature would hurt him, and I always try to protect my little brother." Another piece of memory floated back at those words.

Impossible! How could such a cruel and sadistic creature be the brother of his kind and gentle Master?

"Haha, twins are usually very unalike, didn't you know?" So obviously he could read Zexion's mind. "But let me tell you something, child. You've spent your time with a monster. I know what he's capable of. I've spent nearly 700 years with him."

He didn't now how he'd managed, but a little whispery voice reached his tongue. "He... he's different than you..."

"HAH!" barked Axel out, now a full cruel grin crossing his face. "Wonderful! A little liar! A liar to himself! Lemme tell you, child! The only person that thinks that Demyx is not a monster is you! He's the way he is, and nothing can change this. The only reason you see him that kind way, is that you made him being so in your head." Again he quirked a cruel smile, "and deep down in your soul you know that."

Tears welled up in Zexion's eyes and bare foot he ran over the silencing carpets out of the bedroom.

As the doors closed Axel let out a sigh. What a child, it loved his brother so much it even made him a saint in his mind. Perhaps he hadn't even realized that he loved him. And knowing his dumb brother he didn't have a clue either.

Other than for other vampire, he didn't feel jealousy. He knew that Demyx wasn't his companion for eternity. He just was his beloved brother. He sighed again and got up to get rid of the boy's corpse before the sun rose fully.

* * *

"My, my, aren't you a bit young to be here?" The old woman asked him as he peeked over the counter of the little smelly shop.

"Death doesn't care about age," he replied cooly.

"Well spoken, little man. And neither does the law. I assume you came here knowing what I sell here?"

"You sell death in a flask." At this the old woman had to laugh, her laugh was, despite her grey hair and her cracked skin, the laugh of a young girl.

"You seem to be good with words, little man. And you know what you want. But I can see in your eyes that you're acting out of hurt feelings. Tell me, perhaps I can do something other for you than giving you one of my flasks."

"Are you good at your job?" Zexion asked her instead of answering.

"Huhu, trying it with compliments, are you? Let me tell you, little purple-eyed boy, that I am the best."

"Then I have a challenge for you."

Her look was suspicious. There wasn't anything she couldn't do. Though her work was taboo, everybody took her help in the times of need. "Let me hear."

"Can you kill a vampire?"

* * *

**Oh gosh, I'm so sorry to be such a lame ass, I hope you all can forgive me ^^;**

**Anyway I'm full in the Kingdom hearts flash again, because Birth by Sleep cam out! And I'm playing it like a nut, starting with Aqua i've just finished Terra's story (oh damn, I want to write something about those two!), so Ven's still ahead. I've also already cosplayed Aqua qith an awesome team with a Terra and a Ven, just go and check my dA site!**

**Credits for the Beta-version go, of course, to my dear ****xxcupidxstuntxx, who'd just celebrated her 18th birthday, Congrats and lots of Love again, dear :3**


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